


Don't Let it Burn

by WinJennster



Series: Cooking with Gas 'verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal, Gay Sex, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Minor Character Death, Neither Cas or Dean or Sam, Switching, There are a few other things coming that will be marked as we go, Top!Castiel, and there will be an eventual happy ending!!, bottom!Castiel, bottom!Dean, but I don't want to give story elements away, domestiel, no matter what, top!dean, will die in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-01-20 16:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 86,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1517858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinJennster/pseuds/WinJennster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas and Dean have been through much together; they got married, expanded their businesses, dealt with health scares and the ups and downs of making a relationship work.<br/>Now expecting their first child, life is busy and happy for both of them.<br/>Cas is invited to be part of a new show on Food Network. He and several other chefs, including up and comer John Bartholomew, are the judges for a new high-stakes competition show. He’s flying to New York a lot, while Dean holds down the fort back in Kansas.<br/>Dean’s a pretty happy guy these days. He’s given Benny more control of Winchester and Sons, in preparation for cutting his hours back when the baby comes. There are new babies in their extended family and Ben’s on the Dean’s list at Stanford, really, things couldn't be better.<br/>One drunk driver, and tragedy hits the Winchesters hard.<br/>Dean’s entire world is upended in one night, and he needs Cas more than ever, but Cas is in New York more and more, leaving Dean to deal with the situation in Kansas.<br/>He’s falling apart, slowly but surely, close to the edge and about to tumble over, and Dean can't help but wonder if anyone will be left to catch him when he inevitably falls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Look How Far We've Come

**Author's Note:**

> One year ago, on April 27th, I released the first chapter of Cooking with Gas. I never imagined that it would be as popular as it is. Today, I'm releasing the first chapter of the final installment of this verse. Thanks to everyone who's followed Cas and Dean's journey so far.
> 
> (Will update every other Friday for now, probably more often after I wrap Painted Angels)

"I'm of the opinion you should get your happy ass up and hop on over to your hubby's restaurant and get me some fried pickles and hushpuppies. And a half rack of ribs. Nah, make that a full rack. And some pie."

Dean Winchester looked up from the invoices he was reviewing to find five months pregnant Jo Harvelle staring at him, determination on her face.

"You just ate!" he protested.

"Yeah, and now I'm hungry again. Your  _son_  is hungry again, asshole."

"Hey! No using the baby for blackmail."

"Food, Winchester. Now."

Sighing, Dean pushed back from his desk. "Ok, fine, but only 'cause the little dude is hungry." He stood, walked over to Jo and put his hands on her belly, bending over to talk to the bump. "Daddy'll go get you something to eat, little man." He straightened back up, taking in Jo's raised eyebrow and crossed arms. "What?"

"You are one straight up sap. What are you gonna be like when this kid actually gets here?"

"Shuddup," he mumbled, blushing.

"Now go get my food!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm goin', jeez."

Dean left the office, stepping out into the late May sunshine. He turned for a moment, looking back at Winchester and Sons. My, how they'd grown.

His business was three times the size it had been when it was his dad's. They had a staff of seventy-five on the payroll now, and they'd just finished filming their third season of  _Kansas Kustoms_  (and he still hated that name). His waiting list was over eighteen months long, and at the moment, he had a '71 Challenger being built for Vin Diesel, and a '65 Mustang being done for Bradley Cooper. To say Winchester and Sons was on the map in the classic car world was a gross understatement.

He smiled and patted his baby's fender as he passed, the Impala as gorgeous as the day she was born, the mascot of his shop, her black paint glistening like oil slick in the midday Kansas sun.

An equally beloved red Corvette sat like a queen in the parking lot across the street, and Dean smiled up at the neon Pearly Gates sign, with the cartoony harp-playing angel that looked exactly like Cas's brother Gabe, and the two pig-cupids on either side of him.

At least Gabe appreciated the humor.

Pushing the door open, he waved to Maggie, the hostess, and made his way back to the kitchen, stopping just inside the door.

Cas was back by the grill, flipping vegetables in a frying pan, checking on a steak he was grilling. His dark hair was damp and sticking to the nape of his neck, his cheeks flushed with the heat of the kitchen. Cas didn't notice Dean at first, intent on what he was doing. Dean just stood there, and absorbed the image of him, in his black chef coat,  _Chef C. Winchester_ embroidered above his heart, hands sure and steady as he handled two hot pans at once.

He looked up and saw Dean, face breaking into a smile, bright blue eyes twinkling. His expression was one only Dean saw, full of love for his husband. It took Dean's breath away.

"Jo's hungry, right?" he asked with a grin.

"Yup."

"She's abusing us, I tell you," he chuckled.

"Like we'd ever be able to repay her for this."

"I know." Cas slid the vegetables onto a waiting plate and handed it off to another chef. "Doug, take over?"

"Yes, Chef," the man replied, sliding into Cas's place.

"So what's she want this time?"

Dean ticked the items off on his fingers, "fried pickles, hushpuppies, a full rack of ribs, and a slice of pie."

"Oh, is that all?" Cas asked as he came around the counter, leaning in to kiss Dean. "Sure she doesn't want it served up on gold platter?"

"I dunno. I'd say she wants your first born, but y'know, too late for that."

Cas laughed, as he scribbled down the order, and handed it off to another chef. "Come in my office. I want to show you something while we wait."

"Ok."

Reaching out for his hand, Cas wound their fingers together and pulled him towards the back of the kitchen, leading Dean into his small office and shutting the door.

"So what did you want to show me- _mmmf_ ," Dean said intelligently, as Cas pushed him up against the closed door and claimed his mouth with his own. He licked along Dean's lower lip, demanding entrance, and Dean gave it to him, opening his mouth and letting Cas's tongue sweep along the inside.

He was panting when Cas finally let him go, and he could feel the flush on his cheeks.

"Just think," Cas murmured, kissing the space just behind Dean's ear, "this time next week, we'll be in Napa."

"Mmm, and Hawaii after that. Vacation baby. I need it."

"Me too." Cas leaned in for another long kiss, hands reaching for Dean's hips, pulling him in tight.

"So this is what you wanted to show me?" Dean asked breathlessly when they broke apart.

"Oh, I got a whole lot more I can show you. Got this nice desk behind me, just the right height…" He nibbled at Dean's neck.

"Just the right height for what?"

"Don't play coy."

Dean laughed. "I got to get back to work, baby."

"I can make it fast."

"Really?"

"Really. Let me show you."

Half an hour later, Dean wandered back across the street, large bag of food in hand. Jo took one look at him, and his likely horrifically disheveled hair, and groaned.

"Dude, I'm starving and you had to get your sex on? Seriously? Also, your phone's ringing off the hook and Sam wants you to call and I am your office manager not your social secretary so if you and Charlie want to get together and watch an all-night Star Wars marathon you need to take that up with her, because I am not an owl!" Jo took a deep breath and yanked the bag out of his hands. "I'm starving. Motherfucker!" She stalked off towards the break room, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder.

"Hey, watch your mouth around my son!" Dean yelled back.

"Fuck you!"

Dean shook his head. "Crazy woman."

He made his way into his office, greeting the tourists-slash-fans hanging around the gift store, remembering for the eight hundredth time why he made it a point not to walk into the shop that way, but stayed long enough to sign a handful of autographs and pose for a few pictures. Finally reaching his private office, he shut the door behind him and sank gratefully into his leather desk chair, smiling at the pictures that were crowded on his desktop.

There was Sam and Jess, with two-year-old Mari, and one-month-old Felicity. Anna and Michael with Sarah, Rachel, and little James. Madison and Adam with newborn Johnny. Charlie and Jo. Bobby and Ellen. Ben with him, Cas, Lisa and Vic on his graduation day. Benny, Andrea, and their girls. John and Mary Winchester. Benny, Andy and him in Purgatory. A small framed picture of his future son's sonogram. Him and Cas on their wedding day. On the beach in Hawaii. Cas in the driver's seat of the Corvette. Cas cooking in their kitchen. He and Cas in tuxes in Napa. Cas lying in bed and smiling at him.

Dean's fingers brushed along that one. He'd taken it in Hawaii, when they went out in October for their anniversary trip. He'd been checking email on his phone while Cas slept, sun beams warming the room, the breeze ruffling his shock of dark hair, and he'd rolled to find Dean smiling at him, and he smiled back. Dean snapped the picture.

It was his favorite, and he'd framed it as soon as they got home.

The phone on his desk rang, shattering his reverie, and he answered it, one of his suppliers on the other end. He listened patiently, his eyes still on the picture.

Just a few more days, and they'd be on vacation.

He could make it that long.

* * *

"Welcome to the sixth annual Napa Valley Kick Off to Summer wine and food fest! I'm your host this year, Cas Winchester, and I'm sure you're looking forward to all the good things we have planned for you. First though, let's introduce this year's chefs, and then we'll get this thing started with a build a perfect burger demo!"

Cas found Dean in the audience, smiling down at him as he started to read off the names. Fieri did his annual hip check, and Cas couldn't help but laugh at his antics. He, Guy, and Michael Symon did the burger demo, then turned the floor over to Ree Drummond and Sunny Anderson for their homemade ice cream demo.

Dean was at the back of the big tent, sharing a laugh with Duff Goldman, and Cas heard something about Star Wars as he joined them.

"Hey babe," Dean smiled, leaning in for a kiss.

"Hi." He hooked his arm around Dean's waist, and smiled at Duff. "How's it going, Duff?"

"Pretty good. You?"

They made polite small talk for a while, then Cas had to head to the autograph tent. Dean came with him, and sat with him while he signed autographs, which seemed to make a lot of people really happy. They met fans of both  _Taste of Heaven_  and  _Kansas Kustoms_ , and Dean signed several autographs too.

After that, it was more hosting duties, and he lost track of Dean for a while, but found him later, sipping wine with Ina Garten and Bobby Flay in the hospitality tent. Dean was leaning back in his chair, gorgeous with his Ray Bans resting on top of his head, and a green and aqua plaid button down. It was one of those color combinations that made his eyes look unfairly green. He looked totally content, and he could tell by the look on Ina's face that she was completely taken with his husband.

"Hey, look who finally decided to join us!" Bobby yelled gleefully, offering up a glass of wine, and Dean offering a sweet smile.

Hosting duty sucked. There was no other way to say it. He didn't mind being one of the chefs doing the demos, but hosting meant he had to keep running back up to the stage to introduce the next group of chefs doing a demo. By the end of the day, when they finally headed back to the beautiful house in the vineyard, he was so tired he just wanted to crawl into bed and snuggle with his husband.

Dean, always intuitive, sensed this, and made them a tray with crackers, cheese, and fruit, bringing it, with some champagne and glasses, up to their room.

For the fourth year in a row, they'd managed to score the big bedroom. Dean opened the balcony doors, setting the tray on the patio table.

"C'mon, let's get something to eat, and then we'll take a bath. Sound good?"

"Mmm," Cas hummed, pulling Dean close and burying his nose in his neck. "So tired."

"Just tomorrow, baby, then the gala and then we're off to Oahu. We can spend that whole week in bed if you want."

"Love that idea. Remind me if they ever ask me to host again to run away screaming."

"Promise. Barely saw you at all today, although I did enjoy visiting with Ina. She's really nice."

"Mmhmm. Remember a few years ago, that house we stayed at in Long Island?"

"Yeah. That was...that was pretty great actually."

"That was Ina's house."

"Oh. Oh my god. I had sex in Ina's….oh my god." It was Dean's turn to hide his face, and Cas could feel his cheeks heating. "And I was just sitting there with her and she's like old enough to be my mom."

"She's also a romantic. She's been with her husband since they were kids. Trust me, she'd understand. She'd approve." He pulled Dean out onto the balcony. "Let's eat, sweetheart."

They could hear the house's other guests carrying on below them, but neither of them felt like joining in. Alone time was far more valuable. They enjoyed the food Dean had thrown together, watching the sun go down over the Mayacamas, snuggled together on one chaise lounge. Cas and Dean moved inside shortly thereafter. Dean started the water in the tub, while Cas undressed. They curled together in the hot bathwater, Cas leaning back against Dean's chest.

"Mmm, this is the life," Dean murmured in Cas's ear, "a guy could get used to this."

Cas nodded contentedly, letting his head loll back on Dean's shoulder. Dean washed his hair and his body, then pulled him out of the tub. They got mostly dry, then tumbled into bed together, Cas falling asleep the minute his head hit the pillow.

The next day was more of the same, and a wave of relief washed over him when the day ended, and it was time to head back and dress for the gala.

Dean stepped out of the huge closet, fussing with his cuff links, and Cas took a minute to watch him.

In the seven months since his health scare, Dean had drastically changed his lifestyle. He barely drank anymore, and had continued seeing Pam every two weeks, despite her telling him they could cut it back. Dean felt more comfortable seeing her more often, and she was more than willing to do that for him. He'd gained all his weight back, and started working out again, something he'd let slip when he started working the insanely long hours at the shop. Dean made it a point not to work more than forty to forty-five hours a week now, and he planned on cutting back even more after the baby came.

His shop pretty much ran itself, and now that Benny was a full co-owner, he could take on a lot more responsibility, especially where hiring decisions were concerned. The only time Dean worked a little longer was during the four weeks they filmed the show. Sometimes, getting the shot just right meant staying longer, although he had expressed some disdain for the producers as of late, who tried very hard to edit footage to create the illusion of conflict in the shop.

His staff was his family, and there was no conflict at all. But, he'd told Cas, resignation in voice, conflict gets ratings.

"Help me with this? My fingers aren't cooperating." Dean held up the offending cufflink, a gift from Cas, in the shape of a Chevrolet bowtie.

Cas took it from him and did his sleeve, leaning in after for a long kiss. "Smell so good, baby," he whispered in Dean's ear. "We should just stay here. Fuck the gala." He bent his head to attack Dean's neck.

"As appealing as that is, you are the host, and I think not showing would annoy your employers."

"Dammit." He dropped his forehead onto Dean's shoulder. "I hate hosting."

"I know. But, look at it this way. Tomorrow, we're staying at Guy's overnight, and then Monday, it's out to Hawaii. And then you'll get lei'd." Dean laughed hysterically at his own joke, and Cas groaned in response.

"Corny ass."

"You love my corny ass."

"That I do." He lifted Dean's tux jacket off a chair, holding it out for Dean to slide into. "Mmm, love you in a tux," he smiled, smoothing down the collar.

"You say that about everything I wear."

"It's true. Much as I love you naked, I love seeing you all dressed up too. You're just so damn unfairly hot, you know that?"

"Have you looked in a mirror lately? Or noticed how all the chicks at this thing watch your every move? Dude, I saw at least three women and one decent looking guy undress you with their eyes today." Dean straightened Cas's tie, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "I didn't even get jealous. Know why?"

"Hmm?" Cas purred, as he leaned forward to nip at the bolt of Dean's jaw.

"'Cause I know who gets to take you home. I know who gets to undress you for real. I know how you feel when you -"

Cas cut him off, claiming Dean's mouth. He slipped his tongue between his lips, licking up towards the roof of his mouth, then pulling away slowly, gently nipping his bottom lip as he did.

" -when you do that," Dean continued breathlessly. "Now I don't want to go."

Chuckling, Cas kissed him again, just a soft press of lips. "We have to. Come on, the sooner we go, the sooner we can get back!"

* * *

They ate, they drank, they socialized, they even danced a few times, but two hours after they'd arrived at the tent, Dean and Cas were both ready to go. Cas was buzzing, having drunk entirely too much wine, and Dean had to keep shoving him back into his seat as he drove them back to the house.

Cas tripped over his own feet going up the stairs, and Dean laughed, reached down and helped him up. His breath left his lungs in a  _whoosh_  as Cas slammed him into a wall, kissing him with everything in him. Dean felt dizzy when they came up for air, pressed against the wall with Cas's arms bracketing him on either side. Cas's hand slipped down, cupping Dean through his tuxedo pants. Dean rolled his hips into Cas's palm.

"Don't you think we oughta least try for the bedroom, babe?" Dean asked with a grin.

"Mmm," Cas's eyes were dark and feral. "No one else is here. I could suck you down right here in the hallway."

"You could. But they  _will_ be back. If we're in our room we can get naked and stay naked. See where I'm going with this?"

"Yes. Yes, that's a good plan, c'mon," Cas grabbed Dean's arm and yanked him nearly off his feet, pulling him down the hall into their room, and slamming the door behind them.

Cas started pawing at his clothes the minute they were in the room, shoving the jacket off of Dean's shoulders, pulling the shirt away none too gently, fingers finding his belt and making short work of it and his fly. Cas hit his knees, pulled Dean's cock free of his boxers and slurped him down.

Groaning, Dean buried his fingers in Cas's hair, his knees wobbling slightly as his husband attempted to suck his brains out via his dick. Cas was relentless, and his hands were wandering, a wet finger slipping through the cleft of Dean's ass to circle his entrance.

"Guh," Dean said cleverly, as Cas's finger breached him. He felt like he was going fall over, and Cas seemed to sense this, pulling off with an obscene pop.

Dean did not whine. He absolutely did not whine.

"Just hold on, babe, you're about to fall over." Cas stood, pulling Dean back toward the bed. "I'll finish what I started. Soon as I get you naked and horizontal." He shoved Dean hard, toppling him onto to the bed so he could yank his shoes and socks off.

"Jesus, Cas," Dean gasped, "what got into you?"

"Formal wear," Cas grinned, tugging Dean's pants down, "and my gorgeous husband. Or at least, I want him to get into me." He pulled Dean's boxers all way off, then sat up, straddling Dean's hips, still fully dressed.

"Would help if you were naked, too," Dean grinned.

"Mm, you're right." Cas shucked his jacket and tossed it over the bed, then yanked off his bowtie.

"Slower, make it good for me," Dean purred.

Cas looked back at him, eyes going impossibly dark. He slithered off the bed, kicking his shoes off as he went. With a wanton smile, his fingers slowly -  _painfully_  slowly - started unbuttoning his vest. The black fabric slid off his shoulders and onto the floor.

"Do the shirt," Dean whispered.

Cas rolled his hips slightly, fingers brushing over the pearl buttons. He popped the first, then the second, taking his sweet time and making Dean's mouth water. "Like what you see?"

"Yeah. So hot, so fucking hot, Cas."

The shirt slipped off his shoulders, followed by his white undershirt, miles of tan skin revealed. Dean swallowed and pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down slightly. He was so hard it hurt, and Cas knew it, could see it.

He watched as Cas slowly undid his belt buckle, drawing the black leather out of his pants. Dean sat up, reaching for Cas's fly.

"Uh, uh, uh, no touching."

" _Cas-s-s_ ," Dean whined.

"Nope. You want a show? I'm going to give you a show."

His fingers slipped the button on the fly open, then grasped the zipper, sliding it down as slowly as possible. He lifted his hands and let the pants slip off of him and all Dean registered was _baby blue_  and  _lace_.

Holy. God. In. Heaven.

Cas had on panties. Tiny, lacy, baby blue  _panties_. There was a perfect little white bow just below his belly button, sitting pretty at the top of his dick, which was barely contained in the miniscule swath of fabric. Dean's jaw dropped, his mouth dried up, and he tried to make words work, but nothing happened.

Cas, completely naked save the panties, stretched his arms above his head, rotating slowly, still clearly putting on a show for Dean. He turned, and quirked a sultry smile back at Dean.

"See something you like?" He strutted around to the foot of the bed, tossing seductive little glances back at Dean.

Dean swallowed and nodded, and a bead of sweat rolled down his cheek as Cas put his hands on the bed, slowly crawling towards Dean. The seductiveness had turned predatory, and Dean felt very much like cornered prey.

He was loving every minute of it.

"I do feel very pretty in these." Cas ran his hands across his lace covered bottom. "I've never tried this before, and I was actually a little concerned about how you would react." He moved until he was perched just over Dean's knees and looked down, pointedly, at Dean's crotch. "But, clearly, you're fine with them."

"Cas…" Dean breathed, so turned on his heart was threatening to beat right out of his chest.

"Sssh," he whispered, leaning down to take Dean in his mouth again. Cas sucked gently, swiping his tongue around the length of him, soft teasing touches that served to fire Dean up even more. He pulled off with a pop, lifting his head to stare at Dean through hooded eyes and long lashes. "I've been turned on all day, you know."

"Yeah," Dean rasped, "me too. Been wanting my hands on you all night."

"Mmm, but I did something different today. Because I didn't want to wait, Dean. I didn't want to wait when we finally got some alone time."

"Cas?" Dean asked confusedly.

Cas reached behind him, slipped a hand down into his panties. He slid the rest of the way up the bed, on his knees over Dean's hips.

There was a slight pop, then Cas tossed something black on the bed. Dean stared at it, trying to figure out what it was, but before he could get his brain functions back online, Cas had slid the panties to one side and sank down on him, encasing Dean's cock in tight wet heat.

" _O-h-h_!" Dean howled, hips arching up into Cas. Cas tightened around him, and Dean's hands shot out, grabbing onto Cas's thighs.

Cas chuckled, a low, dark sound, lifting his hips off of Dean and slamming back down again. "Told you I was going to give you a show," he growled.

Dean's back arched off the bed as Cas slammed onto him over and over, and heat built in his belly. Cas's fingers found his nipples, pinching and rolling, sweet little moans and gasps tumbling from his perfect mouth.

He stared up at him, watching as arousal flushed his chest and cheeks, and all Dean could think, the only thought he could pull into his quickly overloading brain, was  _beauty_. Cas was beautiful, strong and viral, and gorgeous, writhing up and down on Dean's cock, riding him like a champ, head tossed back and mouth slightly open.

Fire lit him up from the inside, and Dean sat up, hooked his hands under Cas's thighs and flipped them over, putting Cas on his back.

Blue eyes, nearly erased by the black of his blown pupils, gazed up at him, so filled with love that Dean felt breathless for another reason. "Cas," he panted, "Cas, I love you, I love you."

"I love you too, baby. I love you, too."

He wrapped his legs around Dean's waist, encouraging him, pulling him closer. Dean pulled back, slammed back in, and Cas pulled him in for a kiss.

"Put your hands on me, Dean, I'm so close, so close."

Fumbling blinding, Dean got his hand between Cas's skin and the lace of the panties, pulling them down enough to free him, matching his rough strokes with his hard thrusts.

"I'm gonna - I'm gonna -" Cas arched his back again, and hot wetness filled the lace panties.

"Jesus -" Dean gasped, his body seizing as he came. Cas pulled him down, filling his mouth with his tongue while Dean shuddered through the aftershocks, holding him close as Dean tried to get his breathing under control.

They laid still for a bit, until it became uncomfortable, Cas shoving Dean off of him with a chuckle. Dean rolled onto his back, completely done. He felt, rather than saw, Cas get up, and when he came back, he wiped Dean's hand with a warm washcloth, then wiped his groin down as well. A wet splat echoed in the room as the washcloth landed back in the bathroom.

Dean was still feeling pretty dazed when Cas dragged him back up the bed, pulling the covers up over him. He registered that Cas was fully naked when he cuddled up against him, and he finally found his voice.

"Panties. Panties and a - a - a  _butt plug_?"

"Told you I didn't want to wait. Hence the butt plug." Cas held up the black silicone plug before tossing it out of sight somewhere on the floor. "You should try it sometime. Feels amazing, keeps everything ready to go. I'm  _definitely_  trying that again sometime!" Cas giggled.

"But - but-  _panties_. Tiny, lacy, baby blue panties. Jesus, Cas."

"Are you complaining?"

"Hell no!"

"Good."

Dean rolled to face him, gently running a hand down Cas's cheek. "Love you, you kinky little fucker."

"Love you too, equally kinky fucker."

Chuckling, Dean pulled him close, kissed his forehead, and let sleep carry him away.

  
  



	2. So Wanted, So Loved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE!
> 
> I will try and give you guys updates bi-weekly at least. And yeah, this is going to be a full story, along the lines of the summary. I think I just needed to shake off Painted Angels. Love you all!

There were many things Cas loved in this life, but  _this_  - this had to be right at the top of the list. Dean, beautiful and sweaty, flush painting his cheeks and chest, head thrown back, rolling his hips to take Cas deeper still. He gazed up at his husband, fingers tracing the bones of Dean's hips. A bead of sweat rolled down Dean's chest, and Cas shifted, sitting up, leaning forward to lick it from his skin.

Dean gasped, hands coming up to wrap in the hair at the base of Cas's neck. He grinned, eyes nearly black with arousal, and rolled his hips downward.

"Mmm, Cas, fuck," he groaned, resting their foreheads together, "So good. So fuckin' good."

This was heaven. This was ecstasy. This, Cas thought, was his life. How fucking lucky did one guy get?

The windows were thrown wide, curtains dancing with the breeze coming off the ocean. They only had one night left in their Hawaiian home, and Dean was making the most of it. This was actually round two.

His hips started to stutter as Dean got closer, and Cas shoved him onto his back, taking over and fucking into Dean with short, hard bursts. Dean pushed his hand down between them, yanking roughly on his own dick until he was coming all over his stomach.

He groaned, and went limp on the bed, arms splayed, exhausted by his second orgasm of the evening. Dean's eyes glittered in the dimness of their bedroom, a sweet smile gracing his swollen kiss-bruised lips.

Cas slowed his pace, rocking gently into Dean, slow, even strokes.

"Mmm, Cas, so good," Dean murmured, blinking sleepily.

Keeping his slow pace, Cas came. He leaned in and kissed Dean, smoothing his sweat soaked hair off his forehead.

Dean was already half asleep when Cas pulled out. He got a damp washcloth out of the bathroom, wiped them both down and grabbed Dean by the arm, dragging him up the bed. They lay on top of the sheets, ceiling fan spinning lazily above.

Dean's eyes were closed, a blissful expression on his face. Cas laid down on the pillow beside him, reaching out and trailing the tip of his fingers down Dean's face. He turned his head and opened one brilliant green eye, offering Cas a sleepy smile.

"Don't wanna go home. Can't we just stay here?"

"Mmm, I wish. Got to go back to reality though."

"Fuck reality."

"Agreed."

"Love you," Dean said softly, as his eye closed. Cas felt him drift off even as he said it.

"Love you, too," he smiled, snuggling in close.

* * *

Morning came way too early. Birds chattered noisily and Dean could hear voices down on the beach. Something smelled incredible, but he wasn't willing to get out of bed and find out what it was, choosing instead to roll onto his belly and bury his head under a pillow.

"Hey. I've got breakfast. You are going to get up sometime today, right?"

"Nope."

"It's after ten, sleepyhead. Our flight is at six, and we still have things to do."

Dean groaned, rolling onto his back and pulling the pillow over his face. "Wore me out last night."

"I wore you out? You wore me out!"

The bed springs compressed as Cas sat on the edge of the bed. He tugged the pillow off of Dean's face and smiled down at him as Dean blinked in the brightness of the room.

"Can I tell you how little I want to go home?"

"You said that last night. Usually you're ready to go. What's going on?"

"I dunno," Dean muttered, stretching his arms over his head. "I used to always be so anxious to get back to work, and now, I just don't care."

Cas frowned. "You were excited about getting back and finishing the nursery."

"I know, and I am." Dean wiggled to a sitting position. "Yeah, I don't know what my problem is."

"Come down and have breakfast. I made french toast."

"Ok. Let me get dressed, and I'll be right down."

"Sounds good. There's coffee, too," Cas called as he headed back down the stairs.

Dean climbed out of the bed, stretching as he stood naked at the window, staring out at the beach. He didn't know what his problem was, but some part of him just didn't want to go back home.

"I'm an idiot," he chastised himself, turning and heading for the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, he was sitting at the table, and Cas was handing him a plate full of french toast and bacon.

"This looks great," he smiled at Cas, taking the offered cup of coffee as well.

"Feeling a little better?"

"Yeah, I don't know what my problem is. Just, when we're out here, everything is so perfect. Back home, I've got, y'know, responsibilities." Dean made a face and Cas laughed.

"You're adorable. Come on, eat up. We've got to close the house up and finish packing. And I'd like to leave with enough time that we don't have to rush through the airport like idiots."

"Yeah. Ugh, I hate flying."

"I know, but unless you want to swim the Pacific, flying it is." He patted Dean's hand and took his empty plate. "I'll start dealing with the kitchen. I'm going to give all the perishables to Mrs. Murakami."

Yeah, ok, I'll go up and finish packing up the bedroom. I'm going to take a quick shower." He stood and joined Cas at the sink, wrapping his hands around his waist and kissing his neck. "Wanna join me?"

"Mmm, I already had mine."

"Bummer."

In the bedroom, Dean pulled the rest of their clothes out and packed them, stripped the bed and packed the dirty sheets. He took a quick shower and packed the rest of their toiletries. Then he closed the windows, turned everything off, grabbed their bags and headed down the stairs.

They were in their rental and driving to Honolulu by two, after stopping in Hale'iwa at one of the shrimp trucks for lunch. The day was warm and balmy, and dropping off the rental was painless. Then they were off to the airport, and that was also effortless. By four, they were in the VIP lounge.

"Just think," Dean said out of the blue. "Next time we come back here, we'll have a baby with us. Our son."

Cas smiled, and reached over, patting Dean's hand. "That's right. I can't wait."

"Me, neither."

* * *

"Well, I watered all your plants yesterday, and brought in your mail. Got a pecan pie for you too," Missouri Moseley smiled and set a pie plate on the counter.

"Oh, hell yeah!" Dean grinned, reaching for the pie.

"Watch your mouth, young man," Missouri chided, yanking the pie away. "And you'll spoil your dinner."

"It's ten a.m.!"

"Still," she insisted, tucking the pie into the fridge.

Cas watched the whole exchange with amusement, sorting through the large stack of mail Missouri had set on the counter.

"You boys glad to be home? Gotta finish settin' up for that baby, now."

"Yup," Dean confirmed, "Gonna go pick up the paint tomorrow. Hopefully Benny and Sam got that desk moved for me."

"They did," Cas told him. "I noticed the office was empty when we came in."

"Sweet." Dean yawned. "I'm thinking about a nap. How 'bout you?"

"It's 10 a.m." Missouri told him.

"Well, if it's too early for pie, then it's not too early for a nap."

"That makes no sense."

"Works for me!" Dean kissed Cas on the cheek and disappeared up the stairs.

"Thanks for taking care of everything while we were gone. I have goodies for you, but I'm not sure what bag they're in."

"You didn't need to bring me anything, sugar. I don't mind. After all the work you boys did helping me fix up that old house, it's the least I can do."

"Still -"

"Now, you listen to me, Castiel Winchester. I am a grown woman and I don't do anything I don't want to do. You understand?" She smiled and winked.

"I understand."

"Good. Now, why don't you go curl up with that man of yours? Won't be too long before you boys will be begging for a nap."

"I could sleep. That was a long flight. Dean didn't do well. We had some serious turbulence over the ocean and he was convinced we were going down. Usually he sleeps through the flights. Not this time. He got sick, and was pretty miserable the entire time. Neither one of us got much sleep."

"Then go lay down, and I'm making you dinner tonight."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know. I want to." She hugged Cas, "I'll see you later. Get some rest." Missouri let herself out.

Dean was already sprawled across their bed on his belly in his tee and boxers by the time Cas got upstairs, his face buried in the pillow.

"Move over. I want a piece of that too," Cas said as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"Nope, my bed," Dean mumbled into the pillow.

"I will tickle you."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?" Cas grinned, running his fingers down the bottom of Dean's left foot.

"Hey! Ok, ok, fine, I'll share the bed."

"Good." Cas finished stripping down to his boxers, and he crawled in. Dean settled into his arms immediately.

"These sheets are fresh. Smell like that damn teddy bear. I love Missouri."

"Me too. I'm glad she moved in next door. She's the best house sitter."

"Yup, Jo would've eaten all our food and let my plants die. I guarantee it."

"Do you feel better about being home now?"

Dean sighed. "Yeah, I told you. I don't know what my deal was yesterday. I guess I was just really enjoying being on vacation and not having to worry about work or that stupid show -"

"Dean, if you hate the show so much, don't renew your contract. You've only got one season left. Do it and tell them enough."

"I've thought about it." Dean traced Cas's collarbone with the tips of his fingers. "It was fine, y'know, actually it was pretty fun. But last season, with that editing bullshit they pulled to make it look like Benny and I don't get along - I dunno. I trusted those guys and they made us look bad. They make it look like I'm a douchebag dictator. I'm not like that at all."

"I know, baby. Just tell them you're done. Simple as that."

They lay in the quiet, ceiling fan whirling above them. Cas had just about dozed off when Dean spoke again.

"I just - I care about my guys. A lot. Why would anyone want to make it look like something else? Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Unless that's actually how I am and -"

"Will you cut it out? Seriously. Go to sleep. You're not like that. If I remember correctly, Benny was just as disgusted as you were when he saw the final product."

"Yeah, I forgot." His voice still sounded uncertain.

"Look," Cas said, rolling to face Dean and pulling him in closer, "You're overtired, jet lagged, and exhausted. Go to sleep. Ok?"

Dean nodded and snuggled in, and it wasn't long before they were both out.

* * *

Monday found Dean back at work, sorting through contracts and playing food runner for Jo. If anything, she'd gotten crankier while they'd been away. He was tempted to just give her the week off with pay and send her home, but he knew the office would fall apart without her.

He dealt with some of his accounts payable, made contact with several vendors, worked his way through a fat stack of phone messages, walked the shop floor with Benny, met the new mechanic Madison was training, and approved new shirt designs Ash had come up with.

On the way home, he stopped and picked up the sunny yellow paint he and Cas had agreed on for the baby's room, then stopped at Hy-Vee and got groceries.

By the time he got home, he was in a funk, and he didn't know why. It seemed pointless. Things were going well; there was no reason to feel like that.

Dean chalked it up as post-vacation blues and put the groceries away; save the steaks he'd bought for dinner. Those he took out to their outdoor kitchen, Cas's 40th birthday gift, that he and his brothers had finished just before they left for Napa.

He fired up the grill and opened the steaks, rubbing them down with Cas's seasoning mixture. Dropping them on the grill, he shut the lid and plopped down in a chair.

"What is your deal, Winchester?" Dean grumbled to himself.

It seemed so ridiculous. His life was as on-track as it could possibly be, and he was sulking like a spoiled child.

"Hi," Cas murmured, coming up behind him and handing him a beer. "Steaks?" he asked, sniffing the air appreciatively.

"Yeah, figured I'd cook tonight."

Cas dropped into the chair next to his, kicking his shoes off and leaning back. "What else are we having?"

"That broccoli salad you made earlier this week and there are potatoes in the oven." Dean sipped his beer, and reached over for Cas's hand, weaving their fingers together. "Glad you're home."

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Dean sighed, "Just been in a weird mood today. Not sure what's up with me. Work was just - annoying, to say the least. And it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. I dunno. Guess I'm still sort of in vacation mode."

Cas hummed thoughtfully. "It doesn't usually take this long to snap out of it. Sure you're alright?"

"See, that's what I'm saying. I should be fine."

"Well, we have the sono tomorrow, so that's something to look forward to, and we're watching Sam's girls Friday night. Oh, and Balthazar called. Wants to know if he can come spend the weekend."

"Yeah, I don't mind. Did he say why?"

"Has business to discuss with me. He didn't clarify. It should be fun, though. We always have fun when he's around."

"Well, he's ok in my book pretty much forever, because if he hadn't forced you to do that contest, we wouldn't be here now."

"True enough," Cas smiled, leaning over the chair to kiss Dean.

"Better check those steaks," Dean smiled against Cas's lips when they finally came up for air.

"Mmm, indeed. I hate overcooked meat."

Dean smiled and pulled himself to his feet, squeezing Cas's hand before he let go to walk to the grill. The steaks looked perfect when he opened the lid, and he shut off the gas, moving the steaks onto a platter.

"Ready to eat?"

"Absolutely. What's for dessert?"

Laughing, Dean tossed his husband a saucy, sexy grin. "Me!"

* * *

"And there's his little feet. See?" Dr. Jody Mills moved the transducer across Jo's abdomen. "And there's his little arms." She hit a button and a picture printed out. "He's looking just perfect." Dr. Mills squinted at the screen for a moment. "And he's definitely a boy." She grinned, printing another picture.

Dean squeezed Cas's hand, and smiled down at Jo. "Of course he's perfect. He's ours," he said confidently.

"Yeah, yeah," Jo groused. She took the roll of pictures Dr. Mills handed her. "He's gonna be cute as hell," she said softly, as Dean leaned over her shoulder to look at the pictures.

"I am so excited," Dean murmured.

Cas watched him and Jo admire the pictures, heart buzzing with warmth. That was his son on those pictures. Half Novak, half Winchester, and all loved.

"So, we're right on track for his birth, in just about eleven weeks. You guys getting ready?"

"Yes. We've purchased the crib and changing table, and a matching dresser. Dean picked up the paint yesterday. It's coming together."

"Do you know how many little onesies and socks you have to get for a newborn? It's nuts!" Dean said.

"Like you haven't enjoyed every minute of the baby registry and all that crap. I'd know, I was there." Jo handed Cas the roll of pictures. "Here, Dad, have a look."

Cas took the pictures, and Dean came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. "Dude. Our baby. Check it out."

"It's very exciting."

"Ok, you can both go away now so I can get dressed. And then you losers are taking me out for lunch."

"Ok, ok, geez."

Dean led Cas out of the examination room, and they settled in the waiting room, both of them still transfixed by the pictures.

"Andrew Joseph," Dean whispered reverently.

"Indeed. Our little boy," Cas smiled and kissed Dean's temple.

Someone cleared their throat loudly, and Cas looked up.

An older woman sat across from them, glaring over the top of her horn rimmed glasses. "Disgusting," she murmured under her voice, but it was loud enough that Dean heard it, and Cas looked back at him just in time to see his face fall.

Instantly angry, he took Dean by the hand, standing and leading him out of the office. Dean blinked in the bright June sunlight as Cas dragged him across the lot to where the Impala and the Corvette were sitting, sunlight making the chrome on both cars sparkle. They stood in the gap between the two vehicles. Dean stared down at the ground, kicking at an invisible something.

"Don't do that," Cas said, cupping Dean's chin and lifting his head, "Don't you let her make you feel wrong or inferior. She's the one that's wrong. What we have, this," he held up the pictures of the baby, "This is right. This is beautiful. Don't you doubt that for one fucking minute. Do you hear me, Dean Winchester? There is nothing wrong with us, with you, with our baby. She's wrong. You hear me? She's wrong."

"I hear you. I do. I'm sorry. I just - I was so happy." His face was stricken, the hurt clear in his eyes.

"You keep being happy. Because this is a beautiful thing, and no one can take that away from us." Dean nodded, and Cas pulled him in close, wrapping his arms tight around him. "There will always be bigots. There will always be assholes. But that doesn't make them right, and it sure as hell doesn't make us wrong."

"It makes me so angry, but she made me feel so damn worthless. I hate people like her," Dean said vehemently.

"Don't hate. That brings you down to her level. But take comfort in the fact that our family is so supportive and that we have all this love. Because in our family, a woman you think of as a sister volunteered to carry a baby for us. Because my sister willingly donated an egg so the baby would be a genetic match to both of us. Because your brothers are going to help us paint and get ready for the baby. Because this sweet unborn baby boy is already so loved and so wanted. Pity her. Don't hate her. Maybe her life is empty and she's jealous."

Dean nodded again.

"Ew, did you see that old lady in there?" Jo asked, waddling across the parking lot. "She kept looking at me like I was pond scum. Probably jealous that I had the double hottie escort. Haha, old lady, sucks to be you." She shaded her eyes with her hands and stared at Cas and Dean. "You guys gonna make out in the parking lot or can we go get some food? Baby Boy Winchester wants Mexican."

Dean grinned, and pecked Cas on the cheek. "Your wish is my command, m'lady," he said, pulling away from Cas. He walked over to the passenger side of the Impala and opened the door. "Your chariot awaits, fair lady."

"Stuff it, Winchester. Feed me." She slid into the car and Dean shut the door behind her. He walked back to the driver's side, and Cas reached for him.

"Wish I could go to lunch with you," he said softly, kissing Dean gently.

"Me, too."

"Stupid meeting."

"Yeah, stupid meeting." Dean sighed, tipping his head forward to rest their foreheads together. "I love you. See you later?"

"Yes. I love you, too."

They kissed again, then Cas watched while Dean got into the Impala and drove away.

He walked around to the driver's door of his own car. Cas still had the baby's sono pictures in his hand and for a moment, he felt angry enough to walk back into Dr. Mills' clinic and give that old woman a piece of his mind.

How anyone could ever think what he and Dean had was wrong was beyond him. Dean was sweetness and goodness, and everything he'd ever wanted. He was going to be an amazing father to this baby, just like he had been to Ben, and in many ways, Sam. How could anyone be narrow enough to think this baby was a bad thing? How could anyone think that being raised by Dean Winchester could be a bad thing?

Cas sighed.

Bigots and assholes.

There would never be a shortage of them in this world.

  
  



	3. Being Famous Sucks Butts

If there was one thing Dean seriously didn't like about his new life as a semi-famous person on the Discovery Channel, it was going anywhere public outside of Lawrence. People in Lawrence were used to him, after several seasons of  _Kansas Kustoms_ , and generally didn't go out of their way to follow him around when he went to Target or Hy-Vee. They pretty much left him -and Cas - alone.

Not so in Overland Park.

Friday afternoon, Dean left work early and headed up to Overland to pick up Mari and Felicity from Sam and Jess's house. He stopped at Costco on the way home, and that was his mistake. Usually, if he went out in public, he wore a ball cap or something, but he'd forgotten to bring one that day.

He pushed the girls through the store, selecting the produce items he wanted while Mari babbled happily at anyone close enough to listen. Felicity slept in her car seat the whole time, her little face sweet and relaxed.

Dean picked out new outfits for them from a selection of puffy skirted dresses that had made Mari's eyes go comically wide as she reached for one. He found a three pack of cute sleepers with dogs on them and tossed them into the cart for the new baby. Mari got a book that made silly sounds and played music.

She was chomping contently on a cookie as Dean pushed the cart to the front. He was uncomfortably aware of the small trail of women following him, and he was pretty sure they were taking pictures.

His mug was going to be all over the internet that night.

It wasn't really an issue until they got out to the Impala. Dean started the car and got the girls settled, walking back around to put his purchases away. He slid all of the cold items into the coolers he'd brought, dumping ice over them.

While he was doing that, a woman walked up to the car and started snapping pictures of the Impala and, Dean realized, Sam's girls.

"Hey, please don't take pictures of the girls. Ok?" He tried for a friendly smile, hoping she'd get the idea.

"But they're so cute! Are you and Cas really going to have a baby?"

Ok, and if that didn't weird him out, how his  _fans_  talked about Cas and him like they knew them.

"Um, yeah. But those are my brother's girls, and I'd appreciate it if you could delete those pictures. I don't need those all over the internet."

"Oh, sure, Dean, no problem!" She said cheerfully. "If I can just get a selfie with you and me?"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Dean nodded, putting the last of his stuff in the trunk and shutting the lid. He patiently posed while she took about five shots of him with his arm around her.

"Thank you so much!" She grinned, then leaned up and kissed him. Right on the goddamn lips.

Dean gently shoved her away. "None of that, now," he said, doing his best to stay calm. "You know I'm spoken for."

"I know." She grinned. "You guys are too hot together, you know that?"

"Um, yeah, thanks. Ok, I'm out of here. Have a nice day. Ok? Ok." He got in the Impala and slammed the door shut, reaching over and making sure all the doors were locked.

"Unca Dean, I hungee," Mari whined.

"Ok, baby girl, let's get you a happy meal."

"Fries! Yay!"

Dean smiled at her as he backed the Impala out of the spot. He shifted into drive, rolling down the aisles of the parking lot, groaning out loud when he passed the same woman, still snapping pictures on her phone.

"Mari, baby, don't ever let anyone talk you into being famous. It sucks as -" he caught himself, "butts. It sucks butts."

"Butts!" Mari yelled, giggling.

"Yeah, I'm going to get in trouble for that one."

* * *

By the time Dean got home, both girls were passed out, Mari with a smear of ketchup across her tiny face. Missouri was on her front porch watering her plants and waved as he pulled the Impala into the drive. She appeared around the corner of the house as he was getting out, peeking into the back windows.

"Oh, look at them, they're both zonked out. Sweet little angels."

"Yeah. Do you mind helping me get them in the house?"

"No problem, sweetheart. I'll get little Miss Mari while you get the baby."

Missouri carried Mari up the back steps and into the house, gently laying her on the couch. Dean set Felicity's car seat down, and then he and Missouri brought all the groceries in.

By the time Cas got home, Balthazar in tow, Dean was settled on the back porch, Felicity cooing in the baby swing and Mari tearing around the backyard chasing the bubbles from a bubble machine. Dean was working his way through a dozen ears of corn on the cob, shucking them and dropping them into a bucket of cool water.

"Hello darling!" Balthazar called, bending at the waist to give Dean a big, exaggerated kiss. "How's my favorite corn-fed mechanic?"

"How's my favorite annoying limey?"

"Touché."

"Good to see you, Balth," Dean grinned, shaking the other man's hand.

"It is, isn't it?" the other man said with a grin.

"Hi," Cas smiled, leaning down for a kiss. "How was your day?"

"Mmm, fine for the most part. Had a weird encounter with a fan at Costco, but that was about it."

Cas sat in the chair next to him. "Weird how?"

"She followed me out to the car and was snapping a million pictures. She took pictures of the girls, and then she kissed me on the lips. I was unimpressed, to say the least."

"Ah, lifestyles of the rich and famous," Balthazar grinned, dropping into another chair. "Life in the big city, darling."

"Yeah, well that doesn't mean I have to like it and I didn't appreciate her taking pictures of the girls."

"Was she a good kisser at least?"

Dean glared at Cas. "I thought you were on my side."

"Always, but you can't blame me for being curious," he smiled.

"No one kisses as good as you do," Dean shot back.

"Don't you forget it," Cas smirked. "What's for dinner, gorgeous?"

"Steaks, corn, and I made a veggie pasta salad. I got hot dogs for Miss Mari."

Miss Mari, who was giggling as she alternated between chasing bubbles and popping in and out of the playhouse Dean had built.

Their yard already looked like they had kids, with the swing set, playhouse, and sandbox. Dean loved having his nieces, and had made their yard kid-friendly as soon as Mari learned how to walk. There was a kiddie pool tucked away in the garage, along with several little scooters and bikes, balls, and an industrial size jug of bubble solution to fuel the bubble machine.

Dean had plans to build a treehouse in the big oak tree, and there was already a tire swing dangling from one of the branches.

Mari loved their backyard. And it made Dean feel like a million bucks, watching her run around and play, tiny face bright and joyful.

"I'm hungry. Are you planning on cooking sometime tonight?"

"Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on Balth."

"That's no fun. Much more fun with pants off."

"Dude, little pitchers!" Dean complained, gesturing at Mari. He stood, lifting the bucket of corn. He set it on the counter next to the grill, opened the lid, and laid the cobs across the upper rack. Next, he pulled the plate of steaks out of the mini-fridge and unwrapped them.

Dean had built the outdoor kitchen for Cas, but he was the one that used it the most, and he loved all the little hidden away amenities, like the fridge, and the gas burners. Dean actually preferred to cook outside.

He concentrated on cooking while Balthazar and Cas talked behind him, sipping their beers and watching Mari tear up the yard. Dean caught snippets of their conversation, but he was spacing out a bit, imaging how things would look in a year when the baby swing next to him held little Andrew instead of Felicity.

Not that he didn't enjoy having both of his nieces in his home. Dean was starting to realize he was one sappy old man, happiest at home with his family. For the first time in his life, he was embracing that truth about himself.

He flipped the steaks, and added two hotdogs to the grill. A firm arm slipped around his waist.

"Looks delicious," Cas murmured, kissing Dean's neck.

"Why don't you go grab me a bottle for the baby, and then we can eat?"

"Ok."

"C'mon, Mari, time to eat." Dean looked over the privacy fence. Missouri was in her backyard, tending to her spider plants. "Hey, Missouri. You hungry? Got plenty!"

"Over in a second, sweetheart. Let me grab that apple pie I made earlier."

Cas brought him a bottle, and Dean lifted Felicity from the swing. Cas busied himself getting all the dishes to the table, while Balthazar scooped a giggling Mari into the air and deposited her in a booster seat. Missouri joined them, and Dean settled down in a chair to feed the baby.

He smiled, humming contentedly.

Dean Winchester had it pretty good these days.

* * *

"Mari, bring back my phone!" Dean called, looking for the little girl.

Cas's phone beeped in his pocket. "Uh, Dean? Sam says to look in the bathroom. Mari said bye bye and then he heard a splash."

"Oh, dammit!"

Dean scurried off to the bathroom, while Balthazar helped bring in the rest of the dinner plates. Missouri was sitting in the corner of the living room, in the wooden rocker Dean had refinished, with a drooping and freshly bathed Felicity, singing softly while she rocked the little girl in her arms.

"I swear it's so bloody domestic in here, I'm about to break out in hives."

"Dean's happy."

"He is indeed. As are you."

Cas smiled at Balthazar, taking the steak platter from him. "We have a good life," he said, smiling as Dean chased a soaked Mari from the bathroom, "It keeps us on our toes."

"Come back here you terror!" Dean yelled, as Mari darted out the back door.

"Cas, this baby is long gone. Where should I put her?"

"Her crib's in the front room. Just lay her in there. Thanks, Missouri."

Dean came back in the back door, tiny wet giggling girl slung over his shoulder. "I need a new phone, and apparently we need toilet seat locks. I'm going to give this wild child a bath!" Dean and Mari disappeared into the bathroom.

"Ok, baby's down. I'll see you boys tomorrow," Missouri smiled and waved, letting herself out the front door.

"As soon as Dean gets Mari in bed, we'll open a bottle of wine and discuss whatever it was that you wanted to talk about. He wore her out today, so she won't take long to fall asleep." Cas finished loading the dishwasher, and switched it on.

"Did he wear her out, or did she wear him out?"

"Strong possibility of both. Come on, help me clean up the backyard, and we'll get a fire going."

A short time later, Dean walked onto the deck, shirt slightly damp. He dropped into the first chair he came to, yawning. "She's finally asleep. Holy crap." Cas offered him a glass of wine and he took it gratefully. "Need to find a way to bottle all that energy. And I've got to go get a new phone in the morning. Dropped it in the damn toilet."

"Aww," Cas grinned.

"Shuddup."

"Domesticity looks good on you, Dean-o. The wet shirt doesn't look half bad either," Balth smiled over his own glass. "Did you two ever consider a threesome?"

"With you?" Dean spluttered. "I thought you were into women!"

"Oh, no, I like it all. There's a very fancy name for people like me, Dean. I'm pansexual."

"Oh, well, I uh -"

"Look how adorable he is, Cassie, all red in the face and embarrassed. How 'bout you, darling? Ever consider it?"

"I wouldn't do anything Dean was uncomfortable with."

"So you've considered it?"

"I didn't say that."

"Ok, well you didn't come all the way from New York for this, right? Right?" Dean's face was still bright red, his discomfort obvious.

"I'm just thinking aloud here. You're both very attractive, and I like attractive people."

"I wouldn't cheat on Cas," Dean said firmly, setting his wine aside and crossing his arms.

"Well, no one's asking you to cheat. If it's consensual and all parties agree, it can hardly be considering cheating!"

Cas looked at Dean's face, at the flush painting his cheeks and bleeding down into his neck. He was horribly uncomfortable, and Cas was going to put a stop to it right away.

"You did say we had business to discuss, right? Something about a new show the network is doing?"

"Right," Balthazar gave Dean one last lingering glance. "So they've got a new show, and they want you to be a part of it. It's fairly high stakes. The winner gets a restaurant and a year of support and marketing from the network. All kind of big sponsors on board, too. Vulcan, Arctic Air, KitchenAid, Frymaster, McCormick, and Kraft."

"I don't need a restaurant," Cas informed him, sipping his wine.

"No, of course not, but they want you to be a judge."

Dean was sitting back in his chair, quiet, watching them discuss things. His face was unreadable as he sipped his wine.

"Why me?"

"Uh, because you're insanely popular. The fan base loves you. Did you know, as soon as it came up that you were hosting Napa this year, the tickets sold out faster than they ever have? You're the golden goose, Cassie dear."

"Hmm. Who else are they talking too?"

"Um, hmm. So far, you're the only one who hasn't agreed."

"Who are the others, Balth?"

"Just two others. John Bartholomew -"

"The new guy that does all the molecular gastronomy?"

"Yes."

"I met him briefly last month. He seems friendly."

"He is, as far as I've dealt with him."

"Who's the other?"

Balthazar avoided Cas's eyes.

"Balth? Who's the other?"

"Uh. Naomi." He muttered.

"Naomi? Really? Ugh," Cas grumbled, setting his wine glass aside. "I don't think I can work with that woman."

"That's why they want you. To offset her abrasive personality."

"Who's Naomi?" Dean asked.

"Naomi Carter. She's a very talented French chef. She knows it. She makes sure everyone else knows it as well. Believes she's the second coming of Julia Child."

"Oh." Dean drained the rest of his wine and set the glass aside, then stood and started cleaning the counters of the outdoor kitchen.

"So when does this circus kick off?"

"Well, they'd like to start filming by the first week of August."

"They do know our child is due September 24th, correct? Because I will not miss it for anything, and I'm not going to run off afterwards. I'll need at least three weeks after the birth, although I'd rather have six, and they need to understand that if I'm in New York and get a call that Jo's in labor, I will get up and walk out, even if we're in the middle of filming."

As he said all of this, he was watching Dean's shoulders, pleased when some of the tension seemed to drain from them.

He'd thought so. Dean was concerned about him missing the birth. Well, that wasn't going to happen. No way in hell.

"Obviously, we'll need to discuss your contract with Bob back in NY, but I don't see it being a problem. They want you, and I'm sure they will be more than willing to work with you. It's not like you're asking for anything ridiculous."

Balthazar toyed with his phone for a moment, as Cas continued watching Dean clean up. He enjoyed watching the muscles flex under his husband's shirt, and again thanked whoever was listening for the gift that was Dean Winchester.

"Ok, look, can you come up to NY next weekend? We can meet with Bob and deal with any contract issues you might have. Bring Dean; I'll treat you all to dinner."

"Sounds good to me," Dean smiled, turning to face them and leaning against the counter. "If you're buying and all."

"Of course, darling, don't I always show you a good time? Now point me to my accommodations. I'm exhausted. Your brother's children wore me out!"

* * *

" _Why are my daughters' faces all over the internet?"_

"Goddammit! She said she was going to erase them!"

Sam hummed on the other end of the line.  _"I mean, they're not all that clear, but you can definitely tell that's the Impala, and I can see Mari's curls. Your fans are creepy."_

"You're telling me! She followed me around the store, and then she kissed me. Gross." Dean stretched out on his back, in the middle of his and Cas's bed, staring at the ceiling fan while he talked to Sam. "Is Jess mad?"

" _No. She's concerned, but not mad."_

"Dude, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

" _It's not a big deal. We're just going to have to be more careful about it in the future."_

"It's going to be worse when it's actually my kid, isn't it?"

Sam sighed.  _"Probably."_ Ice clinked against glass on the other end of the line.  _"I'm sorry about your phone. I can replace it."_

"Nah, man, I got it. Buy me a set of toilet locks instead."

" _Didn't I tell you that was the first thing you should have bought?"_

"Yeah, yeah, rub it in." Cas pushed open the door, smiling at Dean. "Ok, I gotta go, Bitchsquatch. Talk at ya tomorrow?"

" _Yup. I got two big cantaloupes for lunch. Mari will probably eat one all by herself."_

"Ok. Bye."

" _Bye."_

They disconnected, and Dean handed Cas his phone. "I can't believe she drowned my phone."

"I stuck in a bowl of rice. Hopefully we can get it dried out enough to retrieve your contacts and photos."

Dean huffed and sprawled his legs and arms across the duvet like a starfish. "I'm fried. That kid wore me out."

"And you loved every minute of it," Cas smiled, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Yeah, I did." He rolled onto his side, watching Cas get undressed. "Those pictures of the girls ended up online. Sam and Jess are  _concerned_ , which means they're mad but decided to be nice about it. Maybe I need to get an SUV with tinted glass and park the Impala."

"You with an SUV? That'll be the day."

"Doesn't have to be a new one! I could get an old Jeep Grand Wagoneer and tint the back windows."

"You do that," Cas said drily, tossing his pants into the hamper. "What do you think about what Balthazar said?"

Sighing, Dean sat up and slid off the bed, tugged his shirt off and tossed it in the general direction of the hamper. He walked to the bathroom to brush his teeth, Cas joining him at the sink.

"I'm not thrilled about you being in NY all the time again, but I dunno. Can't think of a good reason for you not to do it. I know you kinda miss it."

"I do. I do miss it."

"If you can promise to be back in time for the baby, I don't have an issue. Not really."

"Are you sure? I mean, can you handle being alone all that -"

"Dude. I am not a porcelain vase or some shit. I'm not weak. I've  _grown_ , remember? Yes, I can handle it."

Cas smiled at their reflections in the mirror. "Ok. Good," he said softly.

They brushed their teeth, side by side, then Dean shucked his jeans. Moving like the old married couple they were, they folded back the covers and climbed in, and Dean immediately moved to lay his head on Cas's chest.

"I mean, don't get me wrong," he said, "I'll miss you. A lot. But you trust the guys at the restaurant, and I'm in such a better place than I was last year. We can do this. It'll be fine."

Cas kissed his forehead. "Thank you. I love you."

"Love you, too," Dean smiled in the dark. "But you better get back in time for that baby!"

"Wouldn't miss it. Trust me."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how long this took, but I've been very busy playing with my Full House Au, an ask blog on tumblr. The premise is that Sam is a widower with three girls, living in San Francisco, and his brother Dean and best friend Gabe have moved in to help out. Check it out. 
> 
>  
> 
> [LombardStreetWinchesters](http://www.lombardstreetwinchesters.tumblr.com/)


	4. If I Can Make it There

"She really doesn't like you, does she?"

Cas scoffed and looked across the studio. Naomi Carter sat in a chair, legs crossed, perfectly tailored skirt as crisp as it had been when she'd showed up for filming that morning. Her arms were crossed as well, and the stare she leveled Cas with could only be described as intimidating.

He wasn't easily intimidated, however, and stared back until she blinked and looked away.

"In her defense, that salmon mousse was disgusting. My issue was the way she talked to the contestant. She's not Gordon Ramsay."

"Agreed." John Bartholomew settled in the chair next to him, running a hand through his blond hair.

"However, your previous statement rings true. She doesn't like me. Not a problem, since I don't like her either." Cas finished going through his hand scrawled notes on each contestant, setting them aside and gratefully taking a bottle of water from a passing PA.

"That salmon mousse was dreadful, though, wasn't it?" Balthazar asked, dropping into the chair on the other side of Cas.

"Far too much dill."

"Indeed," Cas agreed, making a notation on his paper. He slipped his reading glasses off, folded them, and slipped them into the inner breast pocket of his blazer. "How much more do we have to shoot today?"

"Well," Balth said, paging through his own notes, "the challenge is done. I believe we just have to shoot the final judging, and then you three need to announce who you're cutting. Do you know who you're cutting?"

"Believe it or not, we all agreed. Eliza Norton's getting it."

"Bollocks. She was easy on the eyes."

"And that's what really matters, right? Not that she can cook or anything," John said drily.

Cas smiled. "John's got a point."

"Oh shuddup. I'm shallow enough to admit I like the eye candy, and she is damn near perfect, with that round little -" Balth trailed off as Emmett, the director, joined their little group.

"I believe we're ready to film the last part. If it goes well, I could have you guys out of here within the hour."

"That would be wonderful. I'm starving." Cas folded his notes and wedged them into his pants pocket as he stood. "I made reservations for three at my favorite steakhouse. I was hoping you two would join me?"

"Blue Heaven? I'm in."

"How about you, John? I know the chef," Cas winked.

"Sounds good to me."

"Perfect. Let's go wrap this up. I'm hungry, and I want to call Dean, see how things went today."

"Is it hard? Being away from him like this?" John asked, as the all three stood to move into the judging room.

"It is," Cas sighed, "Especially with the baby coming. I want to be home with him, helping to get things ready and going to Jo's appointments. It does make it that much harder to put up with Naomi's drama. I keep thinking I could be at home."

"It's good money, Cassie. Think of it as a college fund for your new addition."

"Money's not everything, Balth."

"Maybe not, but only people who actually have it say things like that. D'you really think you and Dean would have what you have without it?"

"That's a rather bleak way of looking at things. Yes, having money helps, but I think Dean and I would be just as happy without it."

"I suppose. You are disgustingly content, the both of you."

"I'd love to meet Dean someday." John held the door open for them. "He sounds like a great guy."

"He is. He's the best," Cas said happily. "I'm so lucky to have him."

"Oh, bloody hell, Cassie."

"Let's get this done, please," Naomi said imperiously, "I have an engagement."

John rolled his eyes at Cas before settling into his chair. Cas smiled.

He was in a good mood. Let Naomi do as she wanted. They were almost done, and then he was going to have a lovely meal at his brother's restaurant and call the man he loved.

And no one could take that away from him.

* * *

"So this place used to be yours, right?"

"Right. I sold it to my brother about six months before Dean and I got married, when I realized I didn't want anything permanently tying me to New York. Gabe was practically running it at that point anyway."

"A shame Balthazar couldn't join us. I find I rather like him. He's unconventional, that's for sure," John said.

Cas snorted. "Well, dinner with two other men doesn't hold quite the same appeal as a date and possible booty call with our recently cut-loose contestant. I just hope he doesn't get himself in trouble."

"That's a good point."

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Cas pulled it out. There was one text from Dean -  _I miss you so much_  - and a picture of his sweet freckled face pulled into an exaggerated sad puppy dog expression. He chuckled.

"Something good?"

"My husband is adorable," Cas smiled, showing John the picture.

"Balth was right. You're disgustingly happy."

_I miss you too baby_ , Cas texted back, making an equally sad face for the camera. He sent it off, and leaned back against the seat of their cab. "I'm crazy about him. I'm looking forward to wrapping this episode and going home for a few days."

"And getting away from Naomi."

"Indeed."

The cab pulled up to the curb in front of Blue Heaven, and Cas wasn't surprised by the line.

Blue Heaven hadn't missed a step since Gabe took over, maintaining their hard earned 29 out of 30 Zagat score. Gabe was becoming as well-known as he was, especially since he'd starting adding his own signature dishes.

The place still looked the same, with the fairy-lit topiaries and bench out front. The cerulean columns looked like they had been freshly painted, and  _Blue Heaven Steakhouse_  still glittered in pristine gold paint on the center window.

Cas remembered when he used to spend all of his time there, working himself to the bone. Then the PR nightmare happened, and Balthazar's fix was a contest, a contest Cas wanted nothing to do with.

He'd dreaded every minute, the very idea of it making him sick to his stomach.

But Dean Winchester won that contest. And it ended up being the best thing that ever happened to Castiel.

"What are you smiling about?" John asked, as they climbed out of the cab.

"Just thinking about when I used to own this place. How overworked I was and didn't even realize it. My new restaurants are so low maintenance. I have such a good staff. It's a much better situation."

"So you don't miss being a New York restaurateur?"

Cas smiled at the people in line, most of whom recognized him immediately. "There are things about it I do miss," he admitted, stopping to pose for a selfie, and sign an autograph, "I miss the rush. I miss the excitement."

He and John both signed a few more autographs. Several people asked where Dean was, how he was, when the baby was due - Cas patiently answered all their questions, then waved one last time, and led John into the restaurant.

He hugged Holly, the Maître'd, said hello to several of the staff and a few regulars, before leading John to a table near the back.

"As I was saying, there's things I miss, but I don't know that I miss them enough to want to own a place here again."

"I understand that. I'm still very partial to Chicago, but if you want to get noticed -"

"Right. New York." Cas leaned back into the plush bench. "I'm glad you, at least, were able to come out to dinner with me. We've been working together for a while now, and I don't feel like we know each other at all."

"We really don't. I mean, sure, once I found out I was working with you, I watched several  _Taste of Heaven_ episodes, and even a few of  _Kansas Kustoms_ , but I don't really know you."

"Well, hello there little bro!" Gabe dropped onto the bench next to him, leaned over and gave him a hug. "Good to see you, kiddo."

"Good to see you, too. Gabe, this is John Bartholomew, one of the other judges."

Gabe offered his hand over the table, and he and John shook. "Nice to meet you."

"Same."

"Have you guys ordered yet? Or can I just send stuff out and try to impress you?"

"That would be fine. Send a bottle of wine over, too."

"Ok. How's my favorite brother-in-law?"

"Ha. Don't think Michael would appreciate that, but Dean's great. Getting ready for the baby."

"Ah, yes. Alright, I'm going to head back. I'll start sending plates out. Any food allergies, John?"

"Nope."

"Perfect." Gabe disappeared back the way he came.

A bottle of wine was sent over shortly thereafter, and then the plates started coming out. Gabe went all out; from the appetizer to the dessert, he sent out his best dishes, each one better than the one before.

Dessert was a beautiful goat cheese panna cotta served with caramelized figs. A bottle of Moët was sent out as well.

"I like your brother!"

"Me, too. He spoiled us tonight." The first spoonful of panna cotta melted in Cas's mouth.

"Mmm. Almost makes me want to re-think molecular gastronomy. Take the more traditional route when I move out here."

"Leaving Chicago?"

"Not permanently. But I am shopping for a place here."

"I could get you in touch with some contacts of mine. I know a very good agent for finding restaurant space."

"Anything else I can get for you gentlemen?" the waiter asked.

"Uh, no. We're done. I'll take the check."

"Chef Novak has it covered. I was told not to give it to you, no matter what, and truthfully, I haven't been keeping a tab."

"Gabriel," Cas muttered, shaking his head. "Very well. Thank you, that will be all."

"You've got a good brother," John smiled, his eyes trained on the ass of their departing waiter. "Think he could get me the waiter's phone number?"

Cas laughed. "I'm sure that could be arranged."

* * *

Back in his hotel room, he stripped out of everything save his boxers. Digging in his bag, Cas pulled out Dean's threadbare Rolling Stones shirt. He inhaled deeply as he slid it over his head. There was a bit of Dean's scent imbued in the threads.

He loved this shirt. When he was home in between filming episodes, he'd make Dean sleep in it at least one night, then shove it back in his bag without washing it. It felt and smelled like home, and made Cas feel better every time he put it on.

Cas pulled back the covers on his bed and slid in. He reached for his phone and hit the first number on his speed dial.

" _Hey! I was just gonna call you, but then thought maybe I should wait 'cause you might still be busy."_

"No, I'm done. And I'm coming home tomorrow evening."

" _Really?"_  Dean asked excitedly.

"Yes, really. I miss you. Only for two days, but it's worth it. What are you doing right now?"

" _Well, Missouri and Jo and Charlie just left. We grilled. I was scrubbing down the grill grates."_

"Oh. What did you have?"

" _I made burgers, and Charlie made a salad. Sam and Jess were supposed to come too, but Sam got held over in court."_

"That stinks."

" _Yeah, it does. He works too hard."_

"And you would know."

" _I really would!"_  Dean chuckled.

Cas leaned back into the pillows, warm and comfortable, smiling as Dean prattled on happily about his day, talking about the mural he and Garth were painting on the baby's wall, about how his plants were doing, and that the roses in the beds out front had actually bloomed. He talked about Jo's appointment, and how the baby was kicking, and about the mp3 player he bought Jo so she could play Mozart and Chopin to increase the baby's cognitive development.

" _But I slipped some Zep onto the iPod, too. Gotta start A.J. out right,"_ Dean finished.

"A.J.?"

" _Yeah, I was thinking I don't really want to call him Andy, Andrew is kinda fussy, and we're not gonna call him Joe or Joey, so how about A.J.?"_

"I like it," Cas said, smiling at the ceiling, "A.J. it is."

" _Less than five weeks. I'm so excited."_

"Me, too. I can hear your smile through the phone."

" _I bought a box of diapers today. They're so little. Size of my hand."_

"All of his things are little. The onesies we bought are so tiny."

" _Fuck, Cas, I can't wait. I can't wait for the dirty diapers and the sleepless nights, the spit-up, all of it! I can't wait!"_

"I'm glad you're so happy. I'm happy, too." Cas rolled onto his side and suppressed a yawn. "How was work?"

" _Decent, for the most part. I'm really over this stupid Mustang we're building. Why are people so obsessed with Mustangs and Camaros? There's so many other cars out there, but that's what they all want. Bring me something interesting. Like a GTO, or an old Studebaker, y'know, something different."_

"You know, Dean, you've been in business long enough that you could probably select a car you want to build, build it, and take it to auction. I think you'd be able to sell any car you choose to restore."

" _Huh. That's a pretty amazing idea, Cas. Gonna talk to Benny about that on Monday."_

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

" _Gonna play a few rounds of golf with ole Bitchsquatch."_

"I can't believe you let him get you into golf."

" _What? It's a sport."_  Dean sighed.  _"Haven't seen him in weeks. He's been so damn busy with this trying to make partner bullshit."_

"Well, have fun and tell him I said hi."

" _Yeah. Want me to pick you up in KC afterwards? Since I'll be up there and all."_

"Absolutely. Dinner at Arthur Bryant's?

" _Hell, yeah, Cas. Damn, can't wait to see you. Miss you so much."_

"I miss you, too. Believe me, I'd so much rather be home."

Dean sighed again.  _"I love you."_

"I love you, too," Cas smiled into the phone, "More than you'll ever know."

" _I'll be so glad when this damn show wraps. Want you home, baby, want you home all the time."_

"I know." Yawning, Cas rubbed his tired eyes. "I'm gonna go. I'm falling asleep. See you tomorrow, ok?"

" _Yeah. Tomorrow. I love you."_

"I love you."

" _Goodnight."_

"Night."

* * *

Dean shut off the phone and dropped into a deck chair. He'd gotten spoiled, being married to the man, having him home in Lawrence. Stupid show. Stupid network.

He chuckled at his own childish pout, and leaned back in the chair. Mid-August, and it was hot. The air was stale and sticky. He'd have welcomed a good thunderstorm right about then. His phone buzzed again.

_-Meet me at the green at noon. I'm only going to have a few hours._

Sighing, Dean shook his head.

_-We could skip it._

_-No. I miss you. Just be there, ok?_

_-Ok._

Slapping at a mosquito, Dean figured now was as good a time as any to go inside. He stood and closed all the covers on his freshly cleaned outdoor kitchen, shut off the overhead lights and headed inside.

Making his way through the living room into the kitchen, he shut and locked doors, turned off lights, and eventually ended up in the baby's room.

The walls in the former office were a bright, sunny yellow on all but one wall. The main wall was painted as a landscape, Garth's skilled work, and every member of their family was depicted as a cartoon car -  _Pixar_ style.

There was a '67 Impala with Dean's own green eyes and grin; a red '69 Corvette with blue eyes; a black BMW M5 with Sam's hazel eyes - every member of their family was represented, all surrounding the spot where A.J.'s little car would go.

Dean ran his hand over the dark wooden crib with the Cars bedding. He already loved this room, and in his mind's eye, he could see himself in the wooden rocker he'd refinished, rocking his son and singing Led Zeppelin tunes instead of lullabies.

He wasn't surprised to find himself getting a little misty eyed. This baby was turning him into a grade A sap.

Backing out of the room, he shut off the lights and locked the front door. He turned and trudged up the stairs, not looking forward to another lonely night in their big bed.

At least Cas would be home tomorrow.

* * *

"Are you even trying? I'm new to this whole golf shit and I'm kicking your ass!" Dean chortled, as Sam irritably shoved his club back into his golf bag.

"Fucking hot," he mumbled, dragging the bag across the green.

Sam looked the part of the successful golfer, in a pale peach polo and dark olive pants. He even had white leather golf gloves.

Not to mention his top notch clubs and bag.

Dean, on the other hand, had on khaki shorts, a Zep shirt, and sneakers, and was borrowing Sam's clubs.

"Maybe we should just call it. Lunch in the clubhouse? I'll buy."

His brother's shoulders slumped.

"Or we could keep going, that's fine, too -"

"No. Let's do lunch. You're right, I'm not trying. I'm just…" Sam turned back to face him, "I'm not into this. I'm tired and I don't feel like chasing balls across the grass on a hot fucking day. And if your offer of lunch includes a beer or two, I'm in."

"Sounds like a plan, Sammy. But I'm driving the cart back!"

"Have at it," Sam told him, dropping wearily into the passenger side. "I seriously couldn't care less. And fuck the clubhouse. Let's go someplace greasy and bad for me."

Dean slammed on the brakes and stared over at Sam. "Who are you and what did you do with Sam Winchester?"

"Oh, very funny. C'mon, jerk, it's hot out here."

"Mexican?"

"Hell, yeah."

Half an hour later, Dean and Sam were settled in at Mi Ranchito's. Sam was on his second margarita, helping Dean work his way through a basket of chips.

"This is not the kind of lawyering I wanted to do," Sam stated abruptly, a little on the loud side. "I wanted to help people. Pro bono stuff, stuff that makes a difference. My job is more about advancement than helping anyone." He belched softly and poured himself another glass of margarita. "I don't want to be an ambulance chaser. I want to leave this stupid firm but I'm so close to partner. When I make partner, I can have more control and choose the kind of cases I want my team to do. I just need a few more months."

Dean nodded, took a sip of his water. He was pretty sure he was going to be driving Sam home afterwards. Best to stick with water.

"I hardly see my girls anymore. And Jess works twelve hour shifts, we're like two ships passing in the night. And for what? For a big house that has more room than we need, two expensive cars, for what? This is ridiculous. I barely sleep, I barely eat, I can't remember the last time I made it to the gym, and when's the last time I've seen you?"

"'Bout two weeks."

"Really? That's awful."

"It's ok. Like you said, just 'til you make partner, right?"

"Yeah," Sam sighed and pushed the chips away. "I almost cancelled on you today. I woke up and both the girls were in my bed, and Jess was asleep. It was perfect."

"Dude, you should have cancelled."

"But I want to see you, too. I miss you."

"Well, when we're done, go home. Go play with your girls and love up on your hot wife. Seriously."

"I wish I could just quit."

"What?"

Sam stared down at the table. "Wish I could just quit. Just be a regular guy. Wish I knew about cars and shit. I'd come work for you. Just be -" He trailed off, swiping at his eyes.

"Sammy. If you're not happy, do something about it. Smaller house, less expensive cars. Do something about it."

"Not that simple."

"Sure it is!" Dean assured him.

"No, it's not. Ok? It's not."

Dean frowned. "What's going on? What's really going on?"

Sam rubbed his face and looked away. "Dude, we're in debt up to our eyeballs. I wasn't kidding about the house, and the cars, and greens fees, all of that crap. We're keeping up appearances so I can make partner. The other partners expect me to have a certain lifestyle, and that lifestyle costs. I was in too deep before I realized it. I have to make partner or the debts are going to bury us."

"Jesus, Sammy. Why didn't you say something?"

"Because you are you and you'd try to take care of it, and I can deal with it. As soon as I get promoted, we're putting the house on the market and getting something smaller. Gonna sell my car, and get something less expensive. We've got a plan. But I  _have_  to make partner first."

"Damn." Dean's stomach sank. Sam looked like he hadn't slept well in days, and all of this stress couldn't be helping their marriage.

"Don't get that look. I can handle this. Let's eat lunch, ok? Tell me how Cas is doing. You ready for the baby?"

"Yeah," Dean said distractedly. "I'm picking Cas up at the airport when we're done here."

"Oh, cool. That's great."

"Sammy, you sure you're ok? Sure I can't help?"

"No, I got this, I swear," Sam assured him with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Ok," Dean said.

If only he could believe him.

* * *

Six o'clock sharp found Dean at the airport, pacing as he waited for Cas's plane. He'd dropped Sam off around three, apologizing to Jess for returning him slightly drunk, but she seemed to understand.

He didn't miss how tired she looked as well.

Dean spent the next few hours fooling around at Cabela's before finally heading up to the airport. The arrivals board confirmed Cas's plane was on the ground, so he walked over to the gate.

He saw Cas's hair first, that familiar bed headed mess, and he smiled and waved. Seconds later, Cas was throwing himself into Dean's arms, burying his face in Dean's neck and breathing deep.

"Oh god, you're real. I missed you so much. Smell so good." He wrapped his arms tight around Dean's waist.

"Missed you, too. You're here. I'm so glad."

They stood there for a bit, just holding each other, tangled in Cas's carry-on. Cas finally tilted his head up and Dean kissed him.

"Thank god. I needed that."

"Wish you didn't have to turn around and leave again Monday."

"The hell with that. I'm here now. Dinner. Home. Bed."

"This your only bag?"

"Yes. Get me out of here."

Dean chuckled and took Cas's hand.

Three hours later and they were home. Dean showed Cas the mural and then he was being dragged upstairs, undressed and tossed on the bed without ceremony. Cas was merciless, taking control like he absolutely needed to, like his life depended on it, and Dean happily surrendered to his husband, on his knees and enjoying every moment of it.

Later, when breaths had slowed and pulses had calmed, Dean lay content in Cas's arms, breathing him in.

"Missed you so much," he whispered into Cas's neck.

"Missed you," Cas murmured into his hair. "Love you."

"Love you, too," Dean yawned.

He slept well that night. They both did.

  
  



	5. Labor of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for not majorly graphic childbirth, but there is a mention of blood in relation to childbirth. I tried to keep it non-squicky.

"Put it back!" Charlie yanked the Lightning McQueen sleeper out of Dean's hand and shoved it back on the rack.

"But I wanted to get it for A.J.!" Dean protested.

"No. You can't buy everything on your registry or there won't be anything left for people to buy for the baby sho- for the baby! Ok?"

"Dude, it's just one sleeper."

"Nope." Charlie grabbed Dean's arm and dragged him out of the baby aisle. "We came to get a present for Jo. Remember? And then we're having lunch, going to junkyards to look for your mystery car, and then we're gonna go watch Marvel movies at your house on your awesome TV with your awesome surround sound."

"It's just a sleeper," Dean sulked.

"No! C'mon."

"You're no fun."

"I'm lots of fun, bitch. Loads of fun. How many sleepers have you bought that kid already, anyhow? Like dozens right? You know they don't stay one size forever."

Dean pulled a face. "I know that. I already have a son, remember? A really great son, who's on the dean's list at Stanford. Remember him? I'm not like a new dad or something here."

"You're totally a new dad."

"How would you know? You don't have kids!"

"No, but I watch Johnny all the time for Mads and Adam. That kid is growing like a weed!"

"Yeah, he is," Dean smiled, thinking about his nephew. "He's getting really big, isn't he?"

"Yup. All these babies in your family."

"I know. And I'm adding to it. That's the most awesome thing." He followed Charlie to Target's electronics department. Hanging out with Charlie wasn't a bad way to spend a Saturday afternoon, although he was missing Cas something awful.

They got into an argument over some video games and played the latest version of Mario Kart on the store's demo model, then wandered over to the iPad display.

"You sure this is what she wants?" Dean asked, looking down at the tablet display. "I mean, does this really say  _thank you for being my surrogate_? I feel like I should buy her a car. Or a house. Maybe a trip to Europe."

"It's what she wants. Trust me; she would have done this for you for nothing."

"Yeah, I know. Still."

"Just get the damn thing. I'll go pick out a case and an accessories pack thingie."

The electronics sale associate opened the case with his key. "Just the one?"

"Hold on. Hey Charlie?"

"Yeah?"

"Pick out stuff for you, too," He smiled.

"What? No, I have one!"

"It's three years old and only runs when it wants to. You're getting one, too."

"Dean!"

Dean nodded to the guy, and he pulled two of them out. "Already done. Go pick a case or I'll pick one for you, and I'll get Justin Bieber or something."

"Gah! You're horrible!" she yelled back, but she had a huge smile on her face as she ran off to pick cases.

"So two?"

"Yup."

The guy nodded and rang the tablets up, taking Dean's card from him. He signed the receipt and took the bag.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Dean walked over to where Charlie was still looking through the cases. "Get whatever you need. Little wireless keyboard, case, whatever. Get what you need to make the thing awesome."

Charlie grinned up at him, eyes wide and excited. She threw her arms around Dean's neck and gave him a big hug. "You're the best!"

"I know," he smiled. "I'll meet you up front."

"Ok!"

He left her in the aisle and wandered back over to the baby department. Dean snagged the sleeper, another box of diapers, and a tiny pair of blue jeans that had been artfully distressed and had  _Rockstar_ emblazoned across the back pockets.

Dean chuckled to himself as he paid for the items, then settled in at Starbucks to wait for Charlie.

It was just a damn sleeper.

* * *

"I can't believe you bought that sleeper."

"I can't believe you're surprised."

"You're going to buy everything on your registry and then no one will have anything left to buy for you when the baby comes. People actually like getting new parents gifts, you know!" Charlie punctuated her statement by stabbing the off button on Dean's radio with her index finger. "Ugh, Dean, the cock rock, dude. Try something new once in a while."

"I like Led Zeppelin!" he protested.

"Ok, well try this. It's awesome," Charlie promised, turning on her old iPad and pressing a few buttons. An instrumental piece of music played from the tiny speaker she plugged into it, violins and driving techno beats.

"Is that the Legend of Zelda theme?"

"Ooh, very good. Dean Winchester, meet Lindsey Stirling."

"That's kind of cool," he admitted, switching on his left hand turn signal.

"See? Old dog can be taught new tricks!"

"I'm not old!"

"Older than me!"

Dean shook his head, pulling into the junkyard.

"So what are we looking for? You know I know nothing about cars."

"You don't need to know anything about cars. I want to restore something on my own time, and take it to auction. Just do something different."

"Yeah, Jo said you were complaining about all the Camaros and Mustangs."

"I told Cas that the other night. I'm just getting tired of doing the same old thing, so he suggested I find something I wanted to restore and go for it. So we're gonna walk around this junkyard, and maybe something will catch my eye." He put the Impala in park, and him and Charlie tumbled from the car. "Got your camera?"

She held it up. "Yup!"

Dean waved to Eddie, the junkyard's owner, and he led Charlie out into the yard. "Be careful. There's always bees and broken glass and shit out here. Watch where you step, and don't touch anything. Ok?"

"Got it!"

He led her out past the mounds of modern day broken cars, out to where Eddie dumped the classics. It was in this very junkyard that he'd found a '67 GTO with a horribly bent frame that had ended up donating several of it's pieces to his own baby when she burned up with his shop.

Speak of the devil…

"That almost looks like Baby!" Charlie said, pointing to the rusty old Pontiac.

"Well, that old girl donated some organs to Baby. They rolled off the same assembly line. That's a '67 GTO. It's basically the Pontiac version of my car. GM made a lot of cars that were all the same but had cosmetic differences."

"Oh." Charlie snapped a few pictures. "How about fixing her up?"

"I'd love to, but the frame is bent so bad it wouldn't be worth it." He patted her battered roof. "Poor old girl."

They walked past the GTO, further out into the yard.

"Eddie doesn't want much for any of these old cars, so if I could find something that wasn't all bent to hell, that would be good. Would rather do business with him than anyone else."

Charlie nodded, still snapping pictures.

Dean wandered past more old and broken cars. He grinned at the squashed frame of a late sixties Camaro. Towards the back of the yard, he found a '63 Impala with some promise, but the frame was beyond mangled in the rear. Not worth his time.

There was a '37 Ford Pickup that he had Charlie take several pictures of. Behind it was a '70 Plymouth Roadrunner. Charlie took pictures of that as well.

"Ok. I'm leaning towards the Roadrunner, but I might take the truck, too. If Eddie can make me a good offer, I'll get 'em both. That truck has a ton of potential, and it'll probably be the oldest thing I've ever done. If I do it right, make it factory and not rod it out, man, that baby could make me some serious coin. And the Roadrunner?" Dean climbed over the car, taking in the remnants of yellow paint.

"Fix her up, paint her Lemon Twist, find an air grabber hood somewhere? Hell, yeah, she's money waiting to happen."

Charlie took lots of pictures of both cars. She lowered the camera and sighed, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "This was way more fun than I thought it was going to be, but it's hot as fuck out here. Can we be done now?"

"September in Kansas! Hot as hell!" Dean climbed up in the rusty bed of the Ford, shaded his eyes, and looked around the junkyard one last time. "Yeah, I'm done," he said, hopping back down. "Let's go see Eddie."

"Whew. I'm ready to go." She shut the camera off and tucked it back into its bag. "So when's Cas getting home?"

"Uh, dunno. He thought he was going to be able to come home today, but it didn't work out. Stupid show. I know he's trying to work as much as possible now so he's free for the birth. Which I still can't believe is gonna be in about three weeks."

"If she doesn't go early."

"Yeah, or late. Lisa was two weeks late with Ben."

"Ew, god, please don't let her be late. Please."

Dean chuckled. "She making life hell for you, Charles?"

"Ugh, don't call me that," Charlie said, slapping his arm. "Yeah, she's always moody and then she's hungry all the time and wants weird stuff like buttered popcorn Jelly Bellies with a side of Cool Ranch Doritos. Who do you think has to go out for the midnight cravings? Hint - it's not you, stud."

"Sorry about that."

"Eh, I'm not. She's actually really happy that she's getting to do this for you."

"Jo's amazing like that."

"Yup. So look, I was thinking, when they clear her for air travel, you think we could use the house in Hawaii?"

"Absolutely. I'll pay for your airfare." They walked up the main aisle of the junkyard, bees buzzing all around. "What's the occasion?"

"Ok, first of all, I can pay my own airfare, but you'll probably book the tickets anyway, and I bought a ring and if you tell her I'll kill you and you know I totally can." Charlie sucked in a breath.

Dean stopped dead in the middle of the dirt, looking down at Charlie, and her bright red face that matched her ponytail. She was looking down at the ground, kicking at a rock.

"Are you asking for my permission to ask her?" Dean grinned.

"No! Idiot!" She slapped his arm again. "'Sides. Already asked Ellen and Bobby."

"And?"

"And they said it was about time one of us did something about it."

"Well, I approve. And yeah, you can have the house and I'm buying your tickets. Now can we go?"

"Yeah. C'mon."

Dean went in and talked to Eddie, bought both cars, then called Benny and made arrangements to have them picked up. He and Charlie were almost back to the house when she announced that Jo texted and was demanding BBQ from Pearly Gates, so with a heavy sigh, Dean turned the car back towards town.

The restaurant's lot was crowded, so he parked the Impala in the Winchester and Sons lot instead.

"Oh, she wants me to get something out of her office. Left some book she's reading," Charlie announced, holding up her phone.

"Well, while we're here." Dean took his shop keys and unlocked the door. "Why is it so dark in here? I always tell them to at least leave one light on," Dean complained, reaching for the switch.

"SURPRISE!" many voices yelled as the lights came on.

"Whoa!" Dean yelled, stumbling backwards and crashing into Charlie.

He looked around the showroom. Chairs and tables had been brought in. The tables were loaded with food, and it looked like every member of his family was crammed in there. Blue balloons were floating everywhere, and there were big stacks of wrapped gifts, but most importantly, there was a set of bright blue eyes and dark hair coming towards him.

"You're here," he whispered, as Cas gathered him in his arms, kissing him softly.

"I am indeed. Surprise!"

"What is this?"

Charlie slapped his arm yet again. "It's a baby shower, you idiot!"

"Oh.  _Oh_. That's why you didn't want me to buy the sleeper!"

Slapping a palm over her face, Charlie shook her head. "Goddamn oblivious, I swear!"

* * *

Cas watched Dean laugh over every gift he opened. He was enjoying himself immensely.

All of their family had come together for this. Even Anna and the girls had come down from Chicago. Kali and Gabe had sent a beautiful carved wooden cradle complete with bedding. Ellen and Bobby had given them a carseat and stroller combo. Anna had brought a beautiful quilt she'd made out some of Cas's old baby clothes. Jo and Charlie gave them a baby swing for the backyard swing set. Sam and Jess had brought several tiny outfits and a bassinet.

Ash had made Cas, Dean, Ben, and A.J. matching shirts. Cas and Dean's read  _Winchester_ , and the boys read  _and Sons_. The shirts made Dean a little misty eyed.

Ben was there, with Lisa and Vic, who'd brought more little outfits, and Ben brought two tiny Stanford tees. Adam and Madison had a big bag of the things Johnny had already outgrown, and a brand new baby tub.

Benny and Andrea gave them a book of coupons for babysitting and Missouri promised a week's worth of meal preparation post-delivery to go with the lovely crocheted blanket she'd made.

Jo was glowing, sitting in a comfortable chair, and Cas was pleased that people were fussing over her as much as they were fussing over Dean. She'd also received many gifts, including the spa package Cas had bought for her and Charlie. Everyone was relaxed and comfortable and having a wonderful time.

Everyone, that was, except Sam.

Sam was sitting a bit back from the crowd, tapping on his phone. There was a line forming between his eyebrows, and he looked completely stressed. At one point, he stood and walked outside, his expression stormy.

Dean didn't notice. Ellen was busy forcing a piece of cake on him, and he was mock-complaining about it not being pie. Jess hadn't noticed either, sitting near Jo and feeding Felicity, as the two of them compared pregnancy notes.

Cas looked around at his lovely family, and all of their smiling faces. He loved each and every one of them so much it ached.

Balthazar had no idea. He had no idea how much Cas owed him. Forcing him to do that contest hadn't just netted him Dean; it had given him a whole family, a family that had accepted him, Anna, and Gabe as their own, loved and doted on them as much as they did Cas himself.

Bobby was currently rocking Anna's new little one, James, feeding him a bottle and singing Johnny Cash under his breath. Andrea was painting her daughters' and Anna's daughters' nails. Mari was running around hugging everyone she could get her hands on, and was currently being danced around the room by Anna.

There was so much warmth in this one room, Cas thought, and Dean looked up at that very moment, a smear of frosting on his nose and that special little smile, the one he saved just for Cas, on his face. Thoughts of Sam's unhappiness slipped from Cas's mind.

His life was perfect.

* * *

Dean showed Cas all the new things in the nursery, and together, they unloaded the Impala, bringing all the gifts inside.

Anna and the kids were staying with them for the weekend, and after they got the kids settled, the three of them curled up together on the couch. Anna had brought a photo album loaded with pictures from when her, Cas, and Gabe were children, and had made reprints of some of the baby Cas pictures.

Dean giggled over the ones of Cas in his high chair, covered in mashed potatoes, or the one of him in the bath with Anna and Gabe, all of them with artfully styled bubble 'dos.

The night passed quickly, and Anna went downstairs to sleep on the pull out couch. Cas pulled Dean up the stairs to their room, pushing the door shut behind them.

"Alone at last," he murmured, kissing the skin behind Dean's ear. "Been waiting for this all day."

"Yeah, but it's so nice to have everyone here. I was surprised to see Anna, hell, I was really surprised to see you."

"Mmm, let me get out of these clothes and you can see a lot more of me," Cas purred.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." Cas slid his hands around to the front of Dean's jeans, pulling his husband back against his chest. "Wouldn't mind seeing more of you, too," he murmured, kissing along Dean's neck while sliding his hands down into his waistband.

There was a knock from somewhere.

"Ugh, what the hell? Was that the front door?"

"I didn't hear it," Cas said, turning Dean around in his arms and kissing him.

The knock came again.

"Crap. I hear it again. Let me go find out who it is."

"It's after midnight," Cas grumbled. "Better be good."

Dean headed down the stairs, Cas right behind him. As they got to the bottom, the entry door opened, and Charlie let herself in.

"Oh my god, Jo's water just broke all over our bed, and it's too early! I'm freaking out!"

* * *

They got to the hospital alarmingly fast in the Impala, and Charlie hopped out of the car, running in for a wheelchair.

"Oh, fuck, fuck," Jo groaned, her head dropping back against the seat.

"Contraction?" Dean asked worriedly.

She nodded. Cas took her hand, and she squeezed it so hard, he was concerned for the bones inside.

"Remember the breathing stuff they taught us in class?" Dean asked. "Do the breathing!"

Jo nodded, and controlled her breathing. Cas almost burst into hysterical laughter when he realized Dean was doing it with her. Charlie reappeared with a wheelchair and a nurse, and together, they got Jo out of the Impala and into the chair.

"Can't leave the car there!" The nurse yelled, as they all turned to go in.

Dean blanched, looking from Jo to the car, and Cas took his keys. "Go."

He left them, and parked the car. By the time he got back inside, Jo was on her way up to maternity. Cas managed to get on the same elevator by the skin of his teeth.

Charlie was rubbing Jo's shoulders, and Dean was actually pacing around the small car.

"Did you call Dr. Mills?" Jo asked.

"First thing I did." Dean assured her.

"Call my Mom?"

"Yup, she's on the way."

"Someone get my bag?"

"I did," Charlie said.

"Ok. So time for baby?"

"But he's three weeks early!" Dean spluttered.

"I'm so fucking sorry!" Jo yelled, "I didn't know that damn two day backache was labor, ok? Next time, I'll be sure to ask your permission first!"

Dean withered under the look Jo gave him.

"Babies don't do things on our schedule, babe," Cas soothed, taking Dean's hand and squeezing. "At least this happened while I was here. I won't miss any of it."

That seemed to calm him, and Dean's face relaxed as the elevator doors opened on the maternity floor.

Calm was not a word that would be used to describe the situation about three hours later, when Jo was reaching the end of labor. She was fully dilated, and Dr. Mills was instructing the nurses to rearrange the bed in preparation for Jo to start pushing.

"Ok, Jo, you're doing great, and on the next contraction, I want you to start pushing. Ok?"

"Ugh, yes, just get it out of me!"

"We're getting there, sweetie. It's almost over," Ellen murmured, leaning over to kiss Jo's forehead. "You're doing great."

Charlie was stationed nearby with a video camera, and Cas had a regular camera in his hand. Dean was pacing in short little steps near the top of the bed, waiting, anxious, wringing his hands.

Jo was leaning back against the bed, her blond hair swept up in a messy ponytail. Her face was red from exertion, and sweat was dripping slowly down her face. "I want it out," she mumbled. "Just get him out."

"Ok, Jo, here comes a contraction. Just like we talked about, tuck your chin and bear down. Ok?"

Jo nodded, tucking her chin. Dean grabbed one hand, and Ellen had the other.

"Push, Jo, push."

"Aaaahhhh!" she screamed, her face turning even redder. She pushed hard, grunting with the exertion. The contraction passed in about sixty seconds, and she slumped down into the bed again.

And that's how the next forty-five minutes went, contractions, pushing, and Jo hurling insults at Dean.

"You! You did this to me, you and your fucking gay husband! Fuck you, Dean Winchester! Fuck you! AAAHHH! FUCK! FUCK!"

Ellen had given up on admonishing her daughter's foul mouth, instead just quirking a wry smile at Dean, while Jo crushed his hand. Dean looked like he didn't know whether to be insulted or laugh at Jo's running commentary.

"Ok, honey, this is it, one last good push, c'mon, now!"

Cas and Charlie both moved into position, as close as they could get to catch A.J.'s arrival on film without compromising Jo's modesty - what was left of it, anyway.

At that point, Dean had one of her bare legs cradled against his chest, his other hand still caught tightly in hers. Ellen was in a similar position on the other side of the bed, and both Charlie and Cas were near the head of the bed, cameras poised and ready.

"C'mon, Jo, this is it. You can do this. You got this," Dean murmured.

"Oh, screw you, Dean," Jo growled.

"Push now, Jo, come on!" Jody called.

"Arggh aaahhhhh!" Jo screamed, her face bright red as she bore down, pushing with everything in her.

"That's it, I got him!"

Dean looked down, his jaw fell open, and a look of wonderment crossed his face.

A cry came from between Jo's legs, and Jody held up a screaming, bloody, red-faced infant.

The smile that spread across Dean's face could only be described as beautiful, and Cas felt his heart swell with a feeling so strong, he wouldn't have been able to describe it if he'd tried.

A shock of dark hair, and that tiny little face, little hands, little feet - that was his son. His  _son_.

Dean's eyes filled with tears and spilled over, and he turned back to look at Jo. "Thank you," he whispered, voice full of emotion. "Thank you, Jo."

* * *

An hour later, Jo was sleeping soundly in bed, and Cas and Dean were snuggled into the same recliner in her room. It was just after five in the morning, so the room was empty, save for Charlie, who'd curled up in bed with Jo.

A.J. was wrapped in a tiny blanket, with a tiny cap on his head, his tiny eyes closed. He was warm in Cas's arms, as warm as Dean tucked in beside him. Neither one of them were ready to sleep, unable to look away from the new little life in their arms.

"He's perfect, isn't he?" Dean asked softly, running a finger over his tiny brow.

A.J.'s little nose wrinkled, and they both laughed quietly.

"He really is."

Dean laid his head on Cas's shoulder and yawned. "I can't believe he's here. I can't believe we're parents. This is amazing."

"Our son," Cas smiled, and turned his head to kiss Dean's forehead.

It was a long time before either of them were willing to put him down.

  
  



	6. The Family Business

Andrew Joseph Winchester came into the world at 3:29 a.m. on September 2nd, and on September 4th, his doting fathers took him home.

Dean smiled as he pulled the car in the driveway. There was a big stork sign in the front yard, with a baby wrapped in a blue blanket hanging from the bird's mouth. Blue and yellow balloons were tied all over the porch and the mailbox, everything in sight declaring, "it's a boy!" He wasn't surprised.

Cas climbed out as soon as Dean shut the Impala off, stretching as he stood. He peered in the back window. "A.J. is out cold," he grinned.

"'Course he is. Nothing puts kids to sleep faster than car rides," Dean told him.

Together, they got all of their gear and their new son in the house.

"How long do you think it will be before we're inundated with visitors?" Cas yawned.

"I don't care. Slap that  _do not disturb_  thing Jo gave us on the front door and let's go nap. I'm beat."

Cas did just that, then they took the diaper bag and the infant carrier upstairs. Dean set A.J.'s carrier on the bed and looked over at the bassinet.

"Do I move him to the baby bed?" Cas asked.

"He'll wake up. Set the carrier in the bassinet and come lay down."

Nodding, Cas gently moved the carrier, then helped Dean pull back the sheets and blankets.

Dean kicked off his sneakers and shucked off his jeans. He pulled the bassinet closer so he could see the baby and crawled into bed, rolling to his side, eyes on the bassinet.

Cas snuggled in behind him, wrapping his arm around Dean's waist and pulling him close to his chest. "He's really adorable, isn't he?" he murmured in Dean's ear.

"Mmhmm," Dean hummed, eyes already drifting shut. Cas was warm against his back, and their bed was so comfortable. Dean's body relaxed into the memory foam.

He hadn't slept much in the last several days. They'd had a pretty steady stream of visitors at the hospital, and he, Cas, and Charlie, insisted on staying with Jo and A.J. Sleep was a premium and a luxury that none of them were really able to indulge in. Not to mention that Dean wanted to spend every waking minute with his son.

Waking wasn't what he wanted now, having just drifted off into a doze, but Cas was softly snoring behind him, and A.J. was making soft snuffling noises in his carrier. He was waking up, and probably wanted something to eat.

Dean slid carefully out of Cas's arms, dropping his feet to the floor and sitting up.

A.J.'s eyes were open, and he had his little fingers wedged in his mouth. Dean smiled, a warm rush of love for the newborn filling his chest. He stood and pulled his jeans back on. He reached down and unbuckled the baby from the carrier. Lifting A.J. into his arms, he kissed his downy head.

Cas murmured in his sleep, and Dean turned to smile at him as he grabbed Dean's pillow and pulled it close, burying his face in it.

Damn, but he had it good, Dean thought to himself. Cas, Ben, and A.J. - there was so much to love about his life.

He scooped up the diaper bag and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Once downstairs, he set the diaper bag on the counter, deftly made a bottle with one hand and wedged it in his pocket. He collected a burp rag, diaper, and wipes, taking everything to the living room.

"Ok, little dude. Since Daddy's not getting a nap, let's get you fed and change your butt," he lifted the baby closer, "whew, stinky! How does that much stink come from something so small?" He looked at A.J. for an answer, but of course, the baby just blinked at him.

Dean changed A.J. in his lap on the sofa, like the old pro he was, and settled in to feed him. A.J. sucked contentedly at his bottle, and Dean put his bare feet up on the coffee table, leaning back into the couch.

Not for the first time, he marveled at all of A.J.'s tiny, perfect features. He counted each individual finger and tiny toe; ran his index finger along his little chin; gently touched his small nose and traced around the curve of his ear. He stroked his fingers through the soft dark hair on his head, finally letting his hand cup the whole of A.J.'s skull.

He was so precious, so perfect.

Dean sighed, a happy smile on his face, as he leaned back into the cushions. A.J. was burped twice during the two ounces he drank and promptly passed out in Dean's arms, victim of a bottle coma.

"I should really put you in your bouncy chair and veg out. But you're so damn cute," Dean told his son, "and I don't want to put you down. You have any idea how happy I am that you're here? I missed all this stuff with your big brother. I'm not going to miss any of it with you, buddy. No way in hell." Dean ran his fingers over the baby's scalp, smiling when A.J. wrinkled his little nose. "Daddy loves you," he whispered.

He just couldn't bring himself to put the baby down. So he sat there, almost an hour after A.J. had taken his last sip, staring at the baby and singing Led Zeppelin songs under his breath. He yawned once, twice, finally giving up and stretching out on the couch, settling A.J. against his chest. Dean pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and covered them both.

In minutes, he was out like a light.

* * *

Cas woke sometime after four to an incredible smell and an empty bed. He reached for Dean, disappointed when he didn't find him. A.J.'s bed was empty as well, so Cas got up, pulled his jeans back on, and headed downstairs.

Missouri was in the kitchen, chopping veggies for a salad.

"Well, hello there sleepyhead," she smiled.

"Hi. Seen Dean?"

"Mmhmm. Get your camera sweetheart. He's on the couch."

Cas grinned, reaching into the diaper bag for the camera.

Dean was on his back on the couch, covered with his KU blanket. A.J. was on his belly on Dean's chest, little fist against his mouth. They were both sound asleep. Cas snapped several pictures, then took one on his phone, sending it out to the family.

"That's the cutest thing I've ever seen," he said to Missouri, as he walked back into the kitchen. "Can I help you with anything?"

"No, honey, I've got this. There's lasagna and garlic bread in the oven. I told you, first week home and I'm on cooking duty, ok?"

"Ok."

Cas went out front and collected the mail, and by the time he'd come back in, A.J. was making those little snuffling noises that meant he wanted a bottle. Dean slept through Cas taking A.J. off of his chest. The baby was already done eating, and Missouri dishing up plates of dinner, before Dean woke up. He sat up on the couch, bed-headed and ruffled. He yawned and stretched his arms over his head.

"How's he doing?" he asked Cas. "And what smells good?"

"Missouri made lasagna. It's ready. And he's eaten two ounces and had a diaper change."

"Awesome. Didn't mean to fall asleep."

"Obviously, you needed it. How long after we went to bed did A.J. get up?"

"About ten minutes."

"Wow. I'm sorry."

"It's ok." Dean stood, and stretched again. "Missouri, that smells incredible," he called out to the kitchen.

"Why don't you come and get some? I made two plates and put them at the table," she said, coming into the living room. "Give me that baby and go get something to eat." She held her arms out for A.J. and Cas handed him over. "You boys are going to have to work in shifts for a while. Sleep when you can and all that."

Dean nodded. "I hear you."

"I guess that's what we did today, isn't it?"

"Mmhmm. Now get on out there and eat while it's hot, ok?" Missouri settled in the rocking chair, tucking A.J.'s blanket around him and humming softly.

"Thanks, Missouri," Dean said sincerely, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "We'd be lost without you."

"Oh, go on now, go eat," she smiled.

Dinner was delicious, and Missouri wouldn't let them clean up either. By eight, they were both exhausted and headed upstairs for bed.

Cas changed A.J. and slipped his tiny frame into a sleeper, buttoning it up and then wrapping him in a soft receiving blanket. He lifted A.J. off the bed and snuggled him close to his chest, marveling at tiny features.

He was already pretty sure the baby had Dean's nose, but his mouth and chin looked a lot like his own baby pictures. It might all be in his head, though. It was hard to tell.

"We should put him down," Dean murmured, leaning in against Cas on the bed. "Sleep while we can. I'll take first shift. Ok?"

"Ok." Cas stood and walked over to the bassinet, gently lowering A.J. inside. He leaned over and kissed his tiny forehead.

"Goodnight, my little one. Papa loves you," he whispered.

He crawled into bed beside Dean, shut off the light, and let Dean roll into his arms.

"I love you," Cas murmured, kissing Dean's head.

"Love you, too."

Cas drifted off to the sound of Dean's deep breathing, and across the room, A.J.'s soft little sighs.

* * *

"I don't want you to go," Dean said softly, pressing his forehead to Cas's.

"I don't want to go," Cas murmured. "I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise. I'll come home every weekend."

"I'm sorry. I promised myself I wouldn't get like this."

"It's ok. I don't want to go, believe me. I'm really regretting agreeing to do the show right now."

They stood quietly, arms wrapped around each other and the baby sling Dean was wearing, A.J. snuggled close to his chest.

Three weeks had gone by entirely too fast, and Cas was kissing Dean and A.J. goodbye at the airport. Dean had tears glittering in his eyes as Cas hefted his carry on, and he felt like his own heart was breaking as he went through the TSA checkpoint. He turned back one last time, raising a hand to wave goodbye to Dean through the glass.

Dean swiped a few tears off his face and gave him a watery smile as he waved back.

Cas sighed heavily and turned away.

It seemed apropos that  _Rocket Man_  was being piped through the airport's speakers. He understood how the man felt as Elton John lamented about it being  _lonely out in space_. The last thing Cas wanted to do was get on the plane and leave Kansas behind.

He sighed as the flight attendant went through the preflight speech, choosing instead to look at the pictures on his phone.

There was the one of Dean sleeping on the couch their first day home, A.J. cradled against his chest; one of Dean changing A.J.; one of him rocking A.J. There were several Dean had taken and texted to Cas of Cas doing things with the baby; Cas holding him, rocking him, changing diapers, and one rather memorable moment caught by Dean's camera - Cas covered in spit-up.

There was a thirty second video he'd captured the day before, early in the morning. Dean was sitting in the rocker in the living room, staring out the window. He'd been unaware of Cas's presence, early dawn casting just enough light to film the scene. Dean was feeding A.J., softly singing  _Ramble On_  under his breath as he rocked their son.

In that moment, Cas knew he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

Leaning back in his first class seat, Cas bemoaned the fact that he had to go back to filming. They'd allotted him a three week break, and he was lucky he'd gotten that. The last thing he wanted to do, however, was put up with Naomi's scheming and attitude, when he'd just as soon be at home with A.J. and Dean.

Cas texted one final _I love you_  to Dean, then put his phone on airplane mode. He double checked his seat belt, and let his eyes slip shut as they taxied down the runway.

At least he'd be able to catch up on some sleep.

* * *

Sam stacked his manila folders, legal pads, and other documents into a neat pile. He tucked his pens and his iPad away and checked his phone for messages. Sliding the stack of paperwork inside, he closed his briefcase with shaking hands. He was alone in the courtroom.

He'd lost. He'd lost a case that he desperately needed to win.

Sweat trickled down his neck from his hair. He wrenched his red silk tie (the lucky one) off his neck and tossed it on the table in front of him and yanked open the two top buttons on his shirt.

It wasn't the first case Sam had lost, but it very well might have been the most important. A lot had been riding on him winning this one. Mr. Adler had inferred that his promotion might come with a firm  _not guilty_.

Zachariah didn't say what would happen if the verdict was  _guilty_.

Mr. Roman was going to jail, probably for a long time, and it was Sam's fault. Even if it wasn't Sam's fault, it was Sam's fault.

He wondered if he'd even be allowed to represent Mr. Roman through the appeals process.

Sighing, he covered his sweaty face with his equally sweaty hands.

He'd worked so hard, building evidence to defend what he knew was an open and shut, clear cut embezzlement, tax evasion, and misappropriation of funds case. He found and exploited every last technicality and loophole, keeping his assistant and paralegals late every night, fighting with Jess over how much time he spent at work -

His nephew was three weeks old already, and he'd seen him once. Once.

Gathering all of his things, he stood and shoved his tie in his pocket. Sam left the courthouse in a daze, ignoring the calls of friends as he shoved his way through the doors and out into the warm, late September sunshine.

Staring down at his phone, he thought maybe he should call Jess. It was after one; he wondered what difference would it make if he just left Downtown and went home. Even as he thought it, his phone buzzed. It was Zachariah.

_-Need you back at the office, ASAP._

Sam's heart stuttered in his chest. Zachariah never texted him, not directly anyway. His mouth went dry as he crossed the street to the parking garage, fumbling in his pocket for the keys to his BMW.

He made the drive back to the office in a daze, and made it to his own without being seen. He cleaned himself up, wiping the sweat from his face and buttoning his shirt. His red tie was hopelessly wrinkled, so Sam pulled a spare from his coat closet.

Checking his appearance in the mirror, he grabbed a comb and ran it through his hair. His heart was pounding so hard, he was sure anyone that came in his office would be able to hear it.

"Sam?" Shelley poked her head in the door, and Sam jumped. "Sorry," she murmured.

"It's ok. It's fine."

"Mr. Adler wants to see you," she said softly, eyes downcast.

"Ok." Sam swallowed audibly, and took a deep, steadying breath. He grabbed his suit jacket and slid it back on, straightened his back, and gave her a half smile. "Do I look ok?"

"You like fine." Shelley's tone was sad, and Sam knew. He knew what was going to happen.

He hugged the older lady, catching her off guard.

"I know for a fact that I don't tell you how much I appreciate you," he smiled down at her. "You've always been so good to me. Thank you for that."

Her eyes filled with tears, but Sam ignored them, walking past her and down the hall.

A hush fell over the office as he walked past the secretaries' and paralegals' desks. People in offices stopped their conversations and stared as he walked by.

Sam imagined that it must have been how it felt to walk towards one's own execution.

Zachariah's door was open, and he could see the other two partners. This was it. It was over. He'd lost, and now he had to pay for it.

Sam held his head high, strode into the office, and shut the door behind him.

* * *

"Did I do good?" Dean asked Benny, as they stood looking at the Ford truck and the Roadrunner.

"Hell, brotha, y'knew you did good when you found 'em, or they wouldn't be here now, am I righ'?"

"Yeah. You're right." Dean ran his hands along the fender of the old Ford. "Which one should we do first? I'm leaning towards the Roadrunner, since that era is definitely our comfort zone."

"Sounds good t'me. Want me to have one of the boys haul it into the bay so we can yank her apart?"

"Yup. I'm ready to get my hands dirty." After all, he needed something to do to keep his mind off of Cas, far away in New York. Putting him on a plane three days prior had been nothing short of painful.

Benny nodded, and he and Dean supervised as the Roadrunner was hauled into a bay in the back garage.

There were three buildings now; the front garage, where they did most of the finishing work, with the wash and wax bay on the far end. That building also contained their showroom and gift shop, all of the business offices, and was where they filmed the majority of the show. The paint building sat between the two garages, and that was Garth's domain. The upholsters also worked in that building. Behind it was the back garage, where they were hauling the Roadrunner, and that's where the nitty gritty restoration happened. That was where they tore cars apart, down to the bones, and where all the heavy mechanical work took place.

It was also the building Dean liked the best.

There was no showmanship here; it was all hardcore, bruised and bleeding knuckles, grassroots mechanic work. This was what he'd grown up on, learning at Bobby Singer and John Winchester's feet.

Hell, when Bobby came up to help out for a day, this is usually where he'd be found.

Once the Roadrunner was settled, Benny popped the hood, wincing at the horrible screech it made as they pushed it open.

"Well, tha' was fun."

"Yup. Ok, let's start with body panels. Unbolt 'em, yank 'em off, see what we're working with."

They got to work, falling into the easy companionship they'd had from the day they'd met. In an hour, they'd managed to pull off the doghouse and both rear quarter panels.

"Almost no rust. I don't know how that's even possible, but I like it!" Dean said happily.

"Yup. Decent hood, two front fenders, two rear quarters. Minor dents, nothing big, no cancer. Damn, boy, you picked a winner!"

" _Dean, come to the office please_." Jo's voice crackled over the intercom.

"Huh. A.J. must be giving her hell," Dean grinned. "That's my boy!"

"Yeah, yeah, go see what she wants. I'm gonna pull the trunk lid and the doors."

"Ok."

Dean stopped and washed up in the bathroom, the crossed the blacktop in long strides, unzipping his coveralls as he went. He pulled it off to the waist, tying the sleeves around his hips as he passed several cars in the yard. He pushed open the back door, walking into Jo's office.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Jo looked up from her desk. "Uh. Sam's in your office."

"Sam?" He looked at his watch. It was just after three. "Huh. Did he say why he was here?"

"No, but Dean -" she hesitated. "He looks rough. Go easy on him? Ok?"

"When would I not?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I dunno." Her phone rang and she waved him off as she answered it.

Dean shook his head at her and passed her desk. He pushed his office door open. It was dim inside, the blinds closed so A.J. could nap.

Sam was standing over the portable crib, staring down at the baby. His shoulders were slumped, and his hair was a mess.

"Sammy?" Dean asked softly, alarm creeping up his spine.

"Hey," Sam said quietly, his voice flat.

"Look, not that I'm not thrilled to see you, 'cause I am -"

"This is only the second time I've seen him. He's three weeks old, and I've only seen him once. Hell, I doubt my own girls know who the fuck I am anymore."

Dean froze, alarm turning to chills. Sam's voice was dead, as he stood over the portacrib. "Sammy? Are you ok?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." He turned away from Dean, dropping into the rocker beside the crib. "This is nice, you know? The crib, and the rocker. Jo looks after him while you're on the floor, huh?"

"Yeah," Dean said slowly. "Sammy, you wanna talk? You ok?"

"No, Dean," Sam said bitterly. "I'm not ok. I'm fucked. Completely, one-hundred percent, Grade A fucked."

Dean dragged a chair closer to the rocker, sitting down across from Sam. "What happened?"

"Shit hit the fan, that's what happened. I'm fucked. I'm so fucked," Sam's voice broke, and Dean watched a tear drip from his brother's eye.

"Ok, what the hell happened? You're freaking me out right now."

"I lost a case. A big case. One I couldn't afford to lose. I got back to the office and Adler and the partners called me in and then - then -"

"What?"

"I got fired," Sam said. "I got fired, and we're so screwed. What the fuck am I going to do, Dean? Oh, fuck, we're so screwed." Sam dropped his face into his hands.

"Oh, man," Dean breathed. He leaned back in his chair, heart clenching tight as he realized Sam was crying, tears dripping from his fingers.

"What am I going to do?" Sam asked again, his voice breaking. "How am I going to support my family? I'm going to have to start at the bottom again, if I can even get a firm to hire me in the first place! Oh god, Dean, we're fucked! I'm going to lose everything!"

"No you're not! Ok? You're not. I won't let that happen, do you understand me? Sammy, we'll - we'll figure something out, I mean -" Dean trailed off, his brain spinning. "We'll get your house on the market. Do that first."

Sam looked up. "What?"

"Sell the house. Sell the Beamer and Jess's Pathfinder. Jess can transfer to Lawrence Memorial or something. Hell, you guys can stay with me for a while if you need to. There's two houses on my street for sale, and I could probably get a decent deal, I know both of the owners, and I sure as hell can put both of you in cheaper cars." Dean stood, pacing as he outlined his plan. "We can do this, Sammy. Move you down here, I mean, what's keeping you up there anyway? Everyone's here -"

"I need a job, Dean."

"Well, you can work here."

Sam scoffed. "I don't know a damn thing about cars."

"No, you don't. But you know money, and contracts, and business agreements. I could use someone like you on the team. Believe it or not, we do occasionally need a lawyer. And you were usually way too busy to hire. So this is me hiring you now. I can't pay you anything close to what you were making, but I can pay you enough that you'll be comfortable on your and Jess's incomes with a scaled down lifestyle here in Lawrence."

Wringing his hands, Sam took a deep breath. "Dean - I appreciate this. So much I can't even tell you - but what about the rest of your crew? What will they think?"

"Hey. Family business. A little nepotism is expected, right? Look, everyone's already working here. I've got Madison as my head mechanic, Benny's my partner, Jo runs the office, Adam's doing mechanical design work for me, everyone's here. The place is called Winchester and Sons, right? You're a Winchester. We'll make it work."

"You make it sound so easy…"

"It is easy."

"Are you sure?" Sam sniffled.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Never been more sure in my life."

A.J. took the pause in conversation as an invitation to make his presence known, and Sam smiled, standing and reaching down to scoop him from the crib.

"Hey, little buddy," he said, kissing A.J.'s head. Sam stood and rocked the baby for a minute, while Dean prepped a bottle, using the time to let Sam get his thoughts in order. He took the bottle from Dean, settling back in the rocker with the baby.

"You alright?" Dean asked, watching as Sam fed his son.

"Yeah. I mean, no, but I will be. At least there's light at the end of the tunnel now. Just hope it's not an oncoming train." He smiled wryly.

"Oh, very funny," Dean grinned. "Look, man, I'm not making all your decisions for you, and you should go home and talk to Jess. Figure out what you want to do, but the offer's there. I have room for you here. And you hated your job. This could be one of those things, y'know - fall in the garbage, come out smelling like roses?"

"Yeah, maybe." Sam kissed his nephew's head again. "Maybe." He smiled up at Dean.

Well, that was progress.

  
  



	7. Crash and Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws chapter at you and runs away*
> 
> (unbetaed)

He wanted to go home. That's all there was to it. The pictures and Snapchats Dean sent regularly just weren't enough. Cas wanted to go home. He wanted to snuggle A.J. close and feed him, curl up in bed with Dean, share a cup of coffee with Missouri, whatever, it didn't matter, but he wanted to go _home_.

Cas sighed as he pushed his notes across the judging table. They should have been done filming hours ago, but there'd been a problem with one of the ovens in the contestants' kitchen, and they were all being given a second chance.

He understood that; it was only fair. But now, production was saying they might have to come in and film the next day, Saturday, and he'd had every intention of flying home that night. Instead, it was six pm on Friday, and he'd already missed his flight to Kansas City.

"You don't look happy," John observed, as he sat down beside him.

"I'm not. I was supposed to be on an airplane by now."

"I'm sorry. This can't be easy for you."

"It's not. I have a four week old at home, and I'd much rather be there. I should have never agreed to this show in the first place."

Both men were quiet, looking over their notes.

"I just want to go home," Cas said softly. "I know that must make me sound like a spoiled child, but I failed to realize how difficult it would be to leave them. I texted Dean to let him know I might not make it this weekend, and he was gracious about it, but I know he's disappointed. They've had a rough week."

"Is the baby ok?"

"A.J. is fine. But Dean's brother, Sam, lost his job, and he and Dean are scrambling to get his house on the market so Sam and his family can move to Lawrence. I know it's been stressful for Dean."

"And you want to be there, of course, helping him get through all of this."

"Yes. Dean is -" Cas sighed. "I don't know that fragile is fair, but he's very emotional. He has PTSD from his time in the Army. And I almost lost him, this time last year. He was incredibly ill, and spent two weeks in the hospital. Those first few days were rather touch and go. Being apart is not something either one of us enjoy." Cas rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm complaining. I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. I understand." John reached over and patted Cas's shoulder reassuringly. "You can talk to me. I'm happy to listen."

"You're becoming a good friend, John. I appreciate it."

"No problem. Look, why don't you let me take care of dinner tonight? I have an apartment here in the city, and I've got plenty of food. I'll even cook you something that isn't made with liquid nitrogen!"

Cas smiled. "I find molecular gastronomy fascinating. I wouldn't mind it, if that's what you chose to do."

"I'll keep that in mind. But by the time we get out of here, all I'm going to want is some pasta or something."

"Well, if they say we don't need to be in tomorrow, I'm going to JFK to try and get a flight home."

"Really? Is it worth it?"

"Yes. It's worth it. Even if I only get to be home for twenty-four hours, it's worth it," Cas said firmly.

"Sorry, didn't mean to offend."

"You didn't. It's ok."

"Gentleman, we're ready for tasting," Balthazar announced as he walked onto the set. "Come now."

Cas stood, stretching his arms over his head. "Let's get this over with."

* * *

Filming didn't wrap until well after midnight. They were definitely going to have to finish on Saturday afternoon, and it was a very angry Cas that followed John into his midtown apartment.

"This is ridiculous."

"I know. Look, have a seat and I'll get you a glass of wine."

Cas dropped onto a plush leather couch. "I'm going to see if Dean's still awake."

John handed him a glass of merlot. "I'm going to get dinner going, ok?"

Nodding, Cas pulled his phone out and shot off an  _are you up_  text to Dean. "I'm sorry John. I can't imagine I'm great company right now."

"It's all good. I understand, believe me. Besides," he added, as he brought a platter out of the kitchen, "when even Naomi agrees things are messed up, you know it's bad." He sat the plate on the coffee table. It was loaded with fruits, veggies, cheeses, crackers, and a variety of olives. "Does this work? I'm not all that hungry."

"This is perfect," Cas assured him, mouth watering. "I wasn't that hungry either, since we did actually get a few decent entrees tonight. Marcus's tilapia was very good."

"Mmm, yes. The lemongrass was a brilliant addition. I've wondered a couple of times if he might end up winning this."

"I don't know," Cas said, popping an olive in his mouth. "Jenny's going to give him a run for the money. And David is also a threat."

"Yes, but Marcus is more daring and innovative than the two of them combined. I'm telling you, I'm looking at Marcus."

"Fair enough."

Both men fell into a companionable silence, enjoying the cheeses John had brought out for them. Cas started to feel fairly sleepy after a bit, and he'd realized he hadn't heard from Dean.

He must have fallen asleep, Cas thought, grateful that Dean was getting any sleep at all without him around. He wondered how long it would be until A.J. started sleeping through the night.

"He didn't get back to you?" John asked quietly.

"Ah, no, he's probably asleep. It's pretty late."

"After one."

"Ugh. I should get going. I've got to get a cab back to my hotel."

"You could just stay here. We could swing by for clothes in the morning."

"No, that's ok. I do appreciate the offer. But all of my things are there, and I just - hotel it may be, but I'd prefer to sleep in my own bed."

"I understand," John smiled, a slight flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "At least let me walk you down to the lobby?"

"Ok." Cas gathered his things and followed John out into the hall. "Thank you for dinner," he said, as they rode the elevator down.

"No problem. I would have preferred to have actually made something for you. You know, impress my idol?"

"Your idol?"

John blushed. "Yeah, I'm um, I'm a big fan, Cas. I was pretty excited when I found out you were one of the other judges."

"Oh. But that night at dinner -"

"I lied. Didn't want to come off as a creepy stalker."

"Ah. Ok."

The elevator dinged and the doors opened.

"You could still stay. It's rather late," John offered again, pushing the door open.

"It's fine. I'm ready to head home." Cas stepped out onto the curb and hailed a cab, grateful for the rush of midtown, as a car pulled up right away. "I'll see in the morning," he said over his shoulder, opening the door and sliding in. He gave the cabbie the name of his hotel and leaned back against the seat.

New York was a beautiful place, with the ever present bright lights. There was a time when there was nowhere else on Earth Cas would rather be. All of that had long since changed. He missed the city sometimes, but not living in it.

Kansas was so comfortable, like a worn pair of jeans, or that threadbare Rolling Stones shirt he slept in. Kansas was barbecue, and hot summer nights, iced tea, and corn on the cob. Kansas was friends, family, home. Kansas was Dean - and A.J.

He yawned and rubbed his eyes. His phone buzzed in his hand, and he startled slightly.

_-Sorry I missed you. I was out cold. Up feeding the baby, but you're probably asleep now._

_-Late night. I'm in a cab. Can I call?_

_-Yes!_

Smiling, Cas hit the phone icon. It only rang once.

" _Hey!"_

"Hi. How are you? How's our boy?"

" _I'm fine, boy is fine. Sitting here rocking while he sucks down a bottle."_

"I miss you both so much."

" _We miss you, too. Wish you were here and not there."_

"Same. How's Sam?"

" _Resigned. A bit bummed about losing his job, but he's throwing himself into the move. Jess already secured a transfer to Lawrence Memorial. They were short a peds nurse, so they were more than happy to hear from her."_

"Good."

" _And their house will be on the market by Friday. I was up there awhile today, and going back again tomorrow, so I can help them figure out what of their furniture can be sold. Sam says he feels like we're planning an escape."_

"Kind of are. He hated their life. I can't see this as being anything but good."

" _Same."_

A.J. whimpered softly in the background, and Cas's heart clenched. "God, I miss you. I'd give anything -"

" _I know. Believe me. I know."_  The baby started crying then, and Dean sighed.  _"I gotta go. You know how it is. Drink a bottle and fill the diaper."_

Cas chuckled. "I am familiar with his tendency to do that. I'll let you go then. I'm sorry I won't be home this weekend. I'm half tempted to fly out after filming tomorrow, but we may not be done until late, so…"

" _Cas, baby, its ok. It's ok. I swear. I've got things under control here. Missouri is such a big help, and Ellen keeps finding excuses to drive up from Eudora, so trust me, I'm fine."_

"It's not that. I just want - I want to come home," he said quietly.

" _I know. Next weekend, ok? I'll see you then, and we'll talk every day between now and then. And we can Skype, so you can see A.J. It'll go fast. I promise."_  The baby's cries grew more insistent.  _"I'm sorry, but I've really gotta go, ok? I love you, Cas. I love you so damn much. It's going to be ok."_

"I love you too, Dean. Kiss A.J. for me?"

" _You know it. Bye, Cas."_

"Bye," Cas whispered, ignoring the burn of tears in his eyes. He shut off his phone and shoved it in his pocket, staring out the window. It had started raining, long streaks of water slicking down the cab's windows.

The homesickness was making him nauseous, and he hoped he'd feel a little bit better after a good night's sleep.

The cab pulled up in front of his hotel, and he dug out a wad of money, distractedly handing it to the driver as he clambered out of the back. He rode the elevator up to the fifteenth floor on autopilot, moving through the rituals of undressing and brushing his teeth without really thinking about it.

A baby blanket from home was folded on his pillow, we're he'd left it, and he slid Dean's shirt over his head, breathing in deep the scent of the man still imbued in the threads, although it was beginning to fade.

Curling up under the blankets, Cas's body relaxed, and the tiredness hit him all at once, along with another wave of homesickness. He pulled A.J.'s little blanket close to his nose, breathing in the baby's scent.

And if he cried himself to sleep that night, well, there was no one around to notice.

* * *

Saturday morning came entirely too early, after a 1:30am feeding followed by a 6:00am feeding, and Dean felt something like a zombie as he struggled with the same coffee maker he'd had for years. Finally getting the filter basket to sit right, he took a grateful inhale as the first wafts of coffee brewing floated through the air.

A.J. was still sleeping. That was something at least. Dean should have still been, too, but he'd promised Sam and Jess he'd come up and help sort stuff out in their house. He was really looking forward to getting them down to Lawrence, and seeing them both a lot more, not to mention his nieces.

The coffee maker finished, and Dean gratefully poured himself a cup, reveling in the way the heat bled through the mug and into his palms. He stood in the kitchen in just his boxers and a tee, nursing a mug of black coffee, and gradually feeling himself wake a little more with each sip.

By nine, A.J. was dressed, fed, and tucked in his carrier. Dean fired up the Impala and hit Route 70 not long after, cruising past the sprawling plains, as dried, yellow prairie grasses danced in the wind. Traffic was light, and he put the pedal down, rolling up to 70 mph easily, amused that he was sticking with the speed limit, and had been since A.J. showed up.

Led Zeppelin played quieter than usual over the speakers, and Dean kept time with his fingers drumming along the steering wheel.

" _Many times I've lied and many times I've listened,_

_Many times I've wondered how much there is to know,_

_Many dreams come true, and some have silver linings,_

_I live for my dream and a pocketful of gold."_

Despite missing Cas, and being pretty effin' tired, his mood was jubilant, the idea of getting Sam and his family to Lawrence putting him in good spirits. If there was one thing about his life he didn't like, it was not having his family all in the same place. It was bad enough that Ben was off in California, but having Sam even an hour away was annoying. He wanted to just be able to hang out with his brother without having to make plans.

So yeah, he was sorry Sam had lost his job, but if Dean was being honest with himself, he was relieved, even glad, that Sam would be moving closer, and working for him.

All of his family in one place. Hell, he figured once Ben finished school, he'd probably come back home, too.

Now, if they could just convince Anna and Michael, and Gabe and Kali to move to Lawrence, they'd be set! But he didn't see that happening.

He pulled into Sam's driveway a short time later to find his brother taking a bag of trash out to the curb. Sam opened the back door of the Impala and reached in for the carseat.

"I take Cas didn't make it home?"

"No. Filming ran late, and they've got more to do this morning. He was pretty upset. Half tempted to fly up there with A.J. and put him out of his misery."

"Dude. Newborn on an airplane. Not fun, trust me."

"Yeah, I know." Dean pulled the diaper bag out of the car and slung it over his shoulder. "Just worried about him. The whole down in the dumps depressed thing is more my ball of string. Hard to hear Cas sounding so down."

Sam clapped him on the shoulder. "It'll pass. How much longer do they have left?"

"Mid-November. They took a three week break for Cas, so he could be here, but it's full steam ahead now."

"Well, hopefully it will go fast. And you'll have him home before my little buddy's first Thanksgiving." Sam stroked A.J.'s little nose with his finger, both men laughing when the baby squinted and wrinkled his nose. "He's unfairly cute," Sam grinned.

"Unca Dean!" Mari ran out the front door and straight to Dean. "I missed you!"

"Missed you, too," Dean smiled, scooping her up into his arms. "But I was just here yesterday!"

Mari's face wrinkled in confusion. "Was long time," she explained, looking at Dean like he was crazy.

"Aw, sorry baby girl."

"Hey, Mari, won't be much longer and you'll probably get to see Uncle Dean every day."

"Really?"

"Really," Sam confirmed, reaching out to run a hand through his daughter's curly hair.

"That will be awesome!" she yelled, making both of them laugh.

* * *

They spent a pleasant day sorting and deciding what could go, and what could stay. The girls' bedroom furniture would be kept, but Sam and Jess decided that the big cherry dining room furniture and both of the huge leather couches could go.

By the end of the day, they were all tired, and had spread out on the deck with several boxes of pizza.

Dean smiled over at Jess, who had A.J. in her arms, feeding him a bottle, and Sam, who was happily doing the same with Felicity. Mari was dozing in his arms.

"Few more weeks, and maybe we'll be doing this at your place," Sam said softly.

"Or yours. I put a bid on the house next to Benny's yesterday."

"Dean, you didn't have to do that. We could have waited."

"I know, Jess, but it's a really nice house, and it's gotten some interest. Benny helped the current owners build the deck last year, and I helped them with the bathroom, so I know it's solid. That's the one I want you guys in. Look," he said quickly, cutting off Sam's protest, "I have the money. All I did was put a down payment on it and get the process started. We'll deal with the fine print later, ok?"

"Dean -"

"Don't argue with me, 'squatch. 'Sides, didn't do it for you. Did it for my nieces." Dean winked and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Always with the  _gotta take care of everybody_  shit," Sam groused, but his eyes sparkled, and Dean knew he wasn't really mad.

"That's my job, dude, you know that."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sam grinned. He stood, laughing as Felicity pumped her chubby little legs. "I'm going to get their stuff together so you can take the girls to Ellen's. Really appreciate that, by the way."

"Well, you guys haven't had a date in how long?"

Jess snorted.

"Yeah. Well, date tonight."

Putting the baby up on her shoulder, Jess patted A.J.'s little butt until he let out a soft burp. She smiled. "Just like a Winchester."

"Hey."

"It's true and you know it."

"Yeah, yeah."

They sat quietly for a bit, Dean combing his fingers through Mari's curls, Jess rocking A.J.

"They set him up," Jess said quietly.

"What?"

"Adler. He set Sam up. He knew there was no way to win that case. That's why they gave it to Sam. He knew Sam was planning to use his partner status to take on more pro bono work, and he wasn't cutthroat enough for them. So instead of just letting him go, they gave him a case he couldn't win and set him up to take the fall."

"Huh. I wondered."

Jess shook her head, strands of blond curls tumbling over her shoulder. "And he won't tell you, because he's actually really happy about moving down to Lawrence, but he's pretty depressed about it right now. He feels like he failed us, failed  _me_." She swallowed. "I'm glad he's out. I didn't like the person he was becoming. I was tired of fighting about how much time he spent at work. I know he'll be happier working for you. We'll all be happier."

"You will, trust me. It will be so much easier. You'll have family around to help with the girls, and Sam'll be home by five every night at the latest. Hell, Felicity can join the daycare in my office."

"You're going to have to give Jo a raise," Jess said drily.

"Nah, I'll just put Sam on baby duty with her."

"Wouldn't mind that at all," Sam said, stepping back onto the deck. "Girls' stuff is ready when you are."

"Man, that's going to require getting up. And I've got sleeping child on my lap."

"Blah, blah, blah, c'mon. Go away. I want to wine and dine my wife and maybe actually have sex tonight!"

Jess giggled as Dean slapped his hands over his ears. "TMI! Gross!" He made a face and pretended to be horrified. "Ok, ok, I'm going!"

* * *

Morning sunlight filled their bedroom, as Sam stretched in the sheets. Jess's warm, naked skin was pressed against his own, and he buried his nose in her hair. She smelled wonderful, like sunshine, clean sweat, and strawberries.

"Mmm, good morning," she murmured, rolling to bury her face in his chest.

"Morning." Sam ran his fingers along her shoulder and down her arm, settling his hand on her hip. "Sleep good?"

"Definitely. You?"

"Best night I've had in a while."

"We did have a good night, didn't we?"

Sam nodded.

"Wanna have a good morning?" she asked, a wicked grin crossing her face. She shoved Sam onto his back and swung one gorgeous toned leg over his hip.

"Oh, hell yeah." Sam pulled her down for a kiss. When they separated again, he stared up at her, pushing a strand of hair out her face.

"Baby?"

"I'm ok. I mean, we're going to be ok, aren't we?"

"Sammy, of course we're going to be ok. This is just a bump in the road. It's a good thing. You're getting out of a job you hated and we're moving closer to your family. This is a very good thing. We might struggle for a bit at first, but we'll come out ok. Don't we always?"

"Yeah…"

"Yeah, we do. We'll be ok. Ok?" She kissed him hard, biting gently on his bottom lip as she pulled away.

"Damn, baby, what would I do without you?" he asked breathlessly.

Jess smiled. "Crash and burn," she giggled, leaning down to kiss his nose.

Sam flipped Jess onto her back, kissing her with everything in him. She responded in turn, wrapping her legs around his waist, and they let the world slip away from, at least for a few more hours.

No kids, no money problems, no lost jobs and tough choices, just them, just Sam and Jess and their big bed.

It was as close to Heaven as Sam could ever imagine getting.

* * *

By five, they were on the road to Ellen's to pick up the girls. The plan was to stop and see the new house on the way back and have a late dinner with Dean. Sam could get used to seeing his brother all the time. Truth be told, he was looking forward to becoming an employee of Winchester and Sons, despite all his angry teenaged insistence that he'd never join the family business.

The windows in the Pathfinder were open, a warm, early October breeze blowing through his hair as he drove down 70 towards Lawrence. He turned to look at Jess, her blond hair in two thick braids. The one on the left barely hid the purple mark he'd left on her neck that morning, and he smiled at the sight of it.

Sam never saw it coming.

The radio was playing The Fratelli's  _Chelsea Dagger_  and Jess was singing along. Then Jess was screaming his name in warning, followed by a terrifying impact, a scream of metal and the sound of shattering glass, the horizon tumbling upside down and then right side up, then upside down again before stopping abruptly.

"Oh god, ow,  _ow_ ," he moaned. "Jess?" He turned his head, not an easy feat since he was dangling upside down from his seatbelt.

Jess was still, her face bloody.

"Jess!  _Jess!_ "

She turned slightly, looked at him with dazed blue eyes. Her focus caught on something just over his shoulder, and her eyes widened in alarm. Another impact, this one more brutal than the first, slammed into the Pathfinder, and they were spinning again, Sam couldn't keep up -

Then nothing.

Nothing.

A flash of bright light, people barking orders.

Sirens.

Nothing.

Pain. Pain checking in from every inch of his body, it seemed, and when he finally managed to pry his eyes open, he was staring into kind dark eyes. A man with smooth brown skin was talking to him, he could see his lips moving -

"Hey, buddy, can you tell me your name?"

The voice sounded fuzzy, buzzing in and out like an out-of-range radio station.

Sam felt his eyes drifting shut.

"No, c'mon, man, try and stay with me, ok? Can you do that?"

His eyes blinked open again.

"That's it. Can you tell me your name?"

"Sss- Sam," he gasped.

"Ok, Sam, my name's Jake. I need you to try and stay with me. You've been in a pretty bad accident. We're gonna get you some help, ok?"

Help. Accident. Something important, he had to ask Jake. Sam couldn't remember. He looked at the man's clothes, a shirt in several different shades of mossy green and tan.

"Ar-army?" he gasped.

"Yup."

"Brother was in th' army," he said softly. It hurt to talk. Everything hurt.

"What's your brother's name?" Jake asked him. He had Sam's left wrist in his hand. Checking his pulse, Sam realized.

"Jess," he said. "Jess."

"Your brother's name is Jess?"

"No, no my wife. Jess. My wife. Where, where is she?" Sam could feel his heart start to race as all the pieces started clicking into place. They'd been driving to Ellen's. He was in the Pathfinder. "Jess? Where's my wife?" Why was his voice so weak?

"She's getting help. We're helping her. There's fire rescue on the way, ok, buddy?"

Sam nodded, and the slight movement shot an arc of pain through his neck and shoulders. "Oh, god, hurts," he whispered.

"I know. It's gonna be ok. Tell me about your brother. Where'd he serve?"

"Name's Dean. Fort Riley. Afghanistan. I don't know -I don't know. Jess?"

"Alright, Sam, it's going to be ok."

He could hear the sirens again, voices carrying -  _Have to cut him out. Might lose the leg. Blood loss._   _Critical._

"Call Dean. Have t'call Dean. He'll know what t'do." If there was anything Sam was sure of in this world, it was that Dean would know what to do. "He'll know," he muttered.

His eyes were trying to slip shut again, and he could hear Jake admonishing him to stay with him. Something was being put over his mouth and nose, cool air blowing into his nostrils.

"Sam! Stay with me, man. Just a bit longer, ok?"

That voice…

Sam opened his eyes.

_Dean_. Green eyes, freckles, and a worried expression - his big brother was a welcome sight.

"Why - why ya wearin' an army shir'?" he slurred.

Dean frowned. "Sam? You with me?"

"Yeah, De'. I'm with you. I'm with you."

"Ok, Sam. It's going to be ok."

"I know. You're here. I'll be ok." He didn't understand why Dean looked so sad. "Y'can fix it. Can fix anythin' De'."

He was floating now, the pain drifting into little more than background noise. If Dean was there, it would be ok. He didn't have to fight so hard. Dean would fix it.

"Gonna take care of m'girls, righ'? If I don't - if I don't -" He couldn't bring himself to say the words, even though he knew he was in bad shape, he knew he was fading fast. "Take care of Jess. Sorry De'. Can't. I can't. Hurts." His eyelids felt so heavy.

"Sam, c'mon, stay with us. We're almost there!" Something heavy was laid over his chest, and there was a horrible sound, metal on metal, he didn't know what it was, but he wanted it to go away.

"Sam! Sam!"

"So tired. Jus' gonna - jus' gonna sleep."

Sam let his eyes slip shut, let himself fall gratefully into the darkness.

  
  



	8. Exhaustion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd
> 
> I cried a LOT over this chapter. Please remember, no matter how much it hurts you, I'm feeling it more. Believe me. No one cries over my fics harder than I do.

By six, when neither he nor Ellen had heard anything from Sam and Jess, Dean started to worry. His own calls to their cell phones went straight to voicemail. Dean busied himself with A.J., giving his son a bath and a bottle, settling in the rocker with him, singing little songs, and trying his damn best not to worry.

It had been a long time since Sam and Jess had gotten any alone time. Maybe they were just busy. That had to be it, Dean told himself. It didn't lessen his concern, and by the time the State Troopers showed up at his door, around seven, Dean was nearly beside himself with worry.

The next several minutes were a mess of activity; getting A.J. bundled off to Missouri's, letting Jo know so she could tell everyone else, then a frantic drive to Lawrence Memorial.

They'd been so close; less than a mile from the Lawrence exit off 70. So close.

He'd demanded answers from anyone that looked to be in the slightest position of authority. Now he was waiting. In all, it had only been a short hour since the Troopers had knocked on his door. It felt like a lifetime.

Sitting alone in the waiting room, Dean had nothing but time on his hands and no answers. All he knew was somewhere behind the locking doors in the hallway, Sam and Jess were both fighting for their lives. He had no idea what kind of condition they were in, if they were even still alive.

A wave of exhaustion washed over him, and Dean dropped into a chair. He rubbed a hand over his face. A late night with A.J. and he hadn't been able to nap that day, and now this. He was so tired, he was sure he could probably lie down on the couch in the waiting room and be out in minutes - if he wasn't so goddamn terrified.

In his mind, he could still see the grim expression on that harried doc's face. He'd only spared a moment to let Dean know that  _Mr. and Mrs. Winchester are being treated, we're doing all we can_ , before disappearing back into the ER again. A sympathetic nurse had led him to the private waiting room off the surgery ward, and now he was waiting. What else could he really do? Dean didn't pray anymore; hadn't for a long time.

He sat in a chair and stared at the wall, hoping some of his other family members would show up soon. Dean didn't think he could do this alone.

"Mr. Winchester?"

"Yes?" Dean jumped from his seat as a doctor with a clipboard entered the waiting room.

"I'm Dr. Hollands. I worked on Mrs. Winchester."

"Is she ok?" The doctor's face clouded and Dean's heart sank. "Oh god. Is she -" He couldn't bring himself to say the words.

"I'm sorry. We worked on her for some time, but her injuries were too severe. You should know she passed peacefully, not in any pain."

Dean felt like someone had snipped the strings holding him on his feet, and he collapsed back into the couch. "Sammy?" he asked softly, voice wavering.

"I'm not Mr. Winchester's doctor, but I will try and get some information for you. I do know that he's still in surgery."

Nodding woodenly, Dean stared down at the floor.

God, not Jess. How the hell was he going to tell Mari her mother was gone? How the hell was he going to tell  _Sam_  she was gone?  _If_  Sam even made it -

_No. Can't think like that_ , he admonished himself.

"...and I hate to do this, especially at a time like this," the doctor was saying, and Dean yanked himself out of his own head and back into reality, "but Mrs. Winchester is a registered organ donor, and without Mr. Winchester available to sign the release…" Dr. Hollands trailed off.

Dean understood what he was asking for, and held his hand out for the clipboard. He signed the release with a shaking hand, knowing that it was definitely what Jess would have wanted. As a nurse, she'd campaigned for all the members of the extended Winchester clan to sign up to be donors, stressing how it could save a life.

He handed the clipboard back.

"Mr. Winchester, can we call anyone for you? You shouldn't be alone."

"My family is coming. I live the closest, is all."

"Ok. I'm going to take this, and then try and get an update on Sam. I'll be back shortly."

Dean didn't answer, dropping his face into his hands.

Jess was gone. Sam's beautiful, vibrant wife was gone. She'd never tease Dean about his Dr. Sexy obsession again. Never make Sam cookies again. Never hold her daughters again.

The tears came easy, and he didn't bother to blink them away.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out.

_-I'm on my way. At JFK now. Hang on, babe. I'm coming._

The tears rolled fast as he typed a reply.

_-Who told you? I wasn't going to tell you until I knew what was going on._

_-Jo. She knew you wouldn't. I'm on my way._

_-Ok. I'm glad. Love you._

_-Love you, too. Be there as soon as possible._

Cas was on his way. Cas was coming home. He could do this, get through all of this. Cas was coming.

"Uh, Dean?"

Dean looked up, swiping at the tears on his face. An African-American man with deep brown skin stood uncertainly in the doorway of the waiting room. He was dressed in ACUs and wore an E-5's rank patch. The name over his heart read  _Talley_.

"Uh, do I know you? Did we serve together?" Dean didn't remember a Talley, but he'd served with a lot of men and women during his time in the Army, and he'd definitely forgotten more people than he remembered. He stood and shook the man's offered hand.

"No, at least, I don't think so. I've been around, but your brother said you'd been at Riley, and -"

"My brother? Sammy?"

"Yeah, I was one of the first people to respond. I wasn't far behind them when they got hit, and since I have combat medical training, I stopped. I tried to help as much as I could." A shadow crossed his face. "Anyway, I'm Jake, Jake Talley. Stationed up at Leavenworth, but was on my way to Riley for training this week. I can't stay long, but I just wanted to see you, and give you my number. You'll let me how Sam and Jess make out?"

"Uh, yeah," Dean said, taking the paper Jake held out to him. "Um, Jess didn't - Jess didn't make it," he said quietly.

"Oh man. And Sam?"

"Don't know yet. He's in surgery." Dean dropped back onto the couch and ran a hand through his hair.

Jake fumbled with the duty hat in his hands and stared down at the ground. "He thought I was you," he said softly.

"What?"

"Look, man, ain't gonna lie. He was having a lot of trouble staying conscious. Kept asking me to call you, said you could fix it. Then he got pretty bad, was drifting in and out. Thought I was you. Called me  _De'_  and asked me to take care of his girls. Pretty sure he thought he was dying." He paused. "I um - I told him I would. I just wanted him to have some kind of peace."

Ignoring the sharp stab of pain in his chest, Dean mustered up a weak smile for Jake. "I, um, I appreciate that. Thank you."

"Was my brother, I'd like to think someone would have done that for him." He shuffled his feet a bit. "Anyway, I've got to go. Just let me know how Sam makes out, if you can. It's ok if you don't."

Dean nodded, couldn't get any words out of his mouth, but Jake seemed to understand, and slipped quietly from the room.

He felt so lost - so lost, and so alone, desperate for his family to get to the hospital. Desperate for Cas. If they came out right now and told him that Sam had - that Sam had -

No. He couldn't even think the words. Sam would be ok. Ellen and Bobby were coming. Madison and Adam were getting a sitter and would be there shortly. Jo and Charlie were on their way. Mari and Felicity were safe at Benny and Andrea's, and A.J. was safely tucked away with Missouri.

Cas was hopefully on a plane or getting a flight.

Because Dean couldn't do this alone. If they came out with bad news about Sam and he was there all alone -

"Dean?" Ellen bustled into the room. "Anything? Do we know anything?"

He took one look at the woman he considered his second mom and promptly burst into tears.

* * *

Two hours after Jo first called him, Cas was on a flight to Kansas City. He touched down after midnight, rented a car, and high-tailed it out to Lawrence. He didn't know anything yet, and he didn't want the news over the phone, so he didn't call, just got in the car and drove.

It wasn't difficult to locate the Winchester clan, mainly because he arrived just in time to run into Adam shakily smoking a cigarette just outside the main lobby. Dean's youngest brother quietly led him upstairs to the waiting room.

His husband was asleep, his head on a pillow in Charlie's lap, her fingers combing soothingly through his hair. Cas smiled sadly at them. Dean must have been completely exhausted to have fallen asleep at a time like this.

"He's been out for about twenty minutes," Ellen murmured as she hugged him. "Damn glad to see you, kiddo."

"Any news?"

Ellen's eyes filled with tears. "Jess didn't make it," she said softly.

"Oh no. And Sam?"

"We don't know anything. Almost one in the morning, and nothing. Just that he's in surgery."

"What happened?"

"Drunk driver hit them and Sam lost control of the Pathfinder. It flipped over, then a semi couldn't stop in time, and hit them, too. It's bad, Cas. They had to cut Sam out of the car, but Jess was thrown about ten feet."

"Oh god." He glanced back at Dean. "How's he holding up?"

"As well as can be expected. He said A.J. barely slept last night, didn't want to nap today, and he's exhausted. I'm not surprised he fell asleep."

"Cas?"

He turned to see Dean sitting up, his eyes wide. Launching himself off the couch, Dean threw himself into Cas's arms. "Oh god, you're here. You're here," Dean breathed into Cas's neck. "I'm so scared. I'm trying so hard to stay calm, but I'm so scared, Cas."

"I'm here now. No matter what happens, I'm with you, and we'll get through this. Ok?"

Dean nodded against his neck, not wanting to let go. Cas maneuvered them both until they were sitting side by side on the couch, Dean tucked in between him and Charlie.

"It's been hours, and I don't even know if he's still alive. I had to sign the release forms for Jess so her organs could be donated. This is just - I don't even know anymore. It's such a mess."

"I know. All we can really do is wait."

And wait they did. It was well after four in the morning before another doctor appeared, his face grim.

Sam lost his left leg just above the knee. The damage to the left side of his body, in general, was staggering. His left hip was broken. He had four broken ribs. His left arm below the elbow was essentially shattered and would require more surgeries to fix. There was damage to his spinal column, the extent of which was still unknown. His heart had stopped more than once; multiple times his brain had gone without oxygen. He could be paralyzed - and he was in a coma, on full life support.

Cas felt Dean fall apart beside him, and he wrapped his arm tight around his waist, pulling him close.

"I'm sure I don't have to tell you, but the next twenty-four hours are everything. If he can get through that, well, it's a good start." The doctor shook his head. "But the last thing I want to do is give you false hope. Sam's chances aren't good. One infection could be devastating, and there's so much damage - it will take a miracle. I'm sorry. I wish I had better news for you."

Dean shuddered. "Can we - can we see him?" he asked quietly.

"Let us get him settled in the ICU, and then I'll send someone down for you. Give us a half hour or so."

"Ok."

The doctor nodded and left the waiting room. Cas felt Dean wobble and pulled him down onto a couch with him.

"Are you ok?"

"No. I'm not. I'm not ok, Cas."

"Do you want to go for a walk? Get a cup of coffee while we're waiting?"

"I don't - what if they come while I'm gone?" Dean looked lost, his eyes wide and concerned. "If I walk out, and they come for us and I'm not here -"

"Then we'll come get you," Ellen told him firmly. "Don't worry. Go take a walk and get a cuppa, ok?"

Dean nodded, as Cas tossed Ellen a grateful look. He pulled Dean off the couch, and led him down to the cafeteria. He pushed him into another chair, then went and ordered them both coffees. Cas purchased two blueberry muffins as well, figuring that it had been some time since Dean had eaten.

He set the items on the table and sat across from his husband. "You should eat something," he said, offering Dean the muffin.

Dean took it from him, but made no move to open the package. His face was white, and the circles under his eyes were dark and deep. Dean looked exhausted - exhausted and terrified.

"Dean, eat the muffin please. You need to eat something. Don't want to end up in here, too, ok?"

"Ok," Dean murmured, reaching for the muffin. He opened it with shaking hands and took a small bite.

It was a start.

Cas opened his own muffin and ate it quickly, while Dean continued to pick at his. "Dean, I know you're incredibly worried, but you have to eat something. I'll bet you haven't had dinner, and now it's almost five am, and you've got to put something in your stomach with that coffee. Can you do that for me, please? I know you're worried about Sam, but you have to eat something. Please?"

Nodding, Dean broke off another chunk of muffin and stuffed in his mouth. It took him about fifteen minutes, but he managed to eat the entirety of the muffin.

"Can we go back upstairs now?"

"Of course." Cas stood and cleaned up their mess, throwing all the garbage into a waste bin.

Dean didn't get up, but continued to stare off into space, eyes fixed on a clock on the wall across from them.

"Dean? Do you want to go back up?"

"I knew this was going to happen," Dean whispered.

"What?" Cas asked confusedly, pulling his chair out and sitting back down. "What do you mean?"

"Things were going too damn good." He looked at Cas, green eyes glassy with unshed tears. "Things were going too good, and we all got comfortable and the bottom fell out. Remember what I told you? Happy - I pay for it. Every time I find it, I pay for it."

"Dean -"

"A.J.'s here, and doing great, Jo and Charlie are gonna get married, Sam was gonna move to Lawrence, and now it's all falling apart, and god, Cas, when am I gonna learn? When I am going to learn not to take anything for granted?"

"Dean, that's not how it -"

Dean stood up so fast, his chair shot out behind him and crashed into the wall. He turned and bolted from the cafeteria.

"Dammit!" Cas growled. He shoved his own chair back and took off after Dean. The corridor outside the cafeteria was already empty, but he heard the telltale swish of automatic doors not far from where he stood. Cas followed the sound, through the doors and out into a courtyard.

The sky outside was just beginning to lighten, and it was just bright enough to make out the hunched over figure sobbing on a bench.

"Dean. Oh, Dean," Cas murmured, pulling his husband's shaking body into his arms. "I know you're scared. I'm scared. We're all scared."

"This is how it always happens," Dean said brokenly into Cas's neck. "Everything was going so good. We had A.J., the restaurant and my business were doing good, Sammy was gonna move down here. I was blind, I was stupid - everything got too comfortable and I started taking it for granted! I should have - I should have -"

"Someday, you are going to learn that happiness and good things do not come with a price tag and that sometimes, truly bad things happen to good people. This isn't your fault. This isn't because you're happy. Dammit, Dean, sometimes bad things just happen!"

"But I - I -"

"Stop it. Please. You're exhausted and you aren't thinking clearly. This isn't your fault. I need you to believe that. There is absolutely no way in hell this could possibly be your fault. You weren't driving the car that hit them. You weren't driving the semi. You were at home, taking care of our son. You couldn't have prevented this, and you sure as hell didn't cause it."

Dean shook his head, and opened his mouth to protest, but Cas took his hands and held them close to his chest.

"This is a tragedy. It's awful, and it hurts, but Dean, please,  _please_  believe me. This isn't your fault. Ok? It's not your fault. Do you understand me?" He felt Dean nod against his chest.

They sat quietly for a while, Cas holding Dean as tight as he could while the spasms from the sobs diminished.

"I'm scared." Dean said miserably. "I'm tired of burying my family, Cas. My parents are gone, my grandparents are gone, it's just me, Sammy, and Adam. I'm tired of putting people in the ground, and Sammy? I don't think I could - I don't think I could get through that, Cas." Dean shuddered in Cas's arms. "He has to be ok. So he lost a leg. We can deal with that, right? When I was at Landstuhl in Germany, I saw plenty of soldiers making out just fine with one leg. What's a leg, right? Right?"

Cas nodded. "He can still live a full life." It was the possible paralysis that concerned Cas. While he was sure Sam could overcome the disability and still enjoy his life, Cas was worried that the paralysis, along with losing Jess, would spiral Sam into a damn near crippling depression.

_If_  he woke up, of course. The doctor had made it pretty clear that there was distinct possibility that Sam might not regain consciousness. Cas couldn't help but wonder what that would do to Dean, if he had to bury his brother.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to read the text. "Ellen says they've got Sam settled, and we can see him now."

* * *

That was his baby brother.

Wrapped in wires and tubes, surrounded by efficient nurses and beeping and flashing monitors.

That was his baby brother under the blue tube sticking out of his mouth.

That was his baby brother with his arm wrapped in a heavy cast.

That was his baby brother with a flat spot on the bed where his left leg should be.

Dean sank into the only chair in the ICU cubicle where Sam lay, unmoving on a hospital bed, barely visible through the mess of medical apparatus keeping him alive, keeping his lungs moving and his heart beating.

The exhaustion he'd been trying to keep at bay for two days settled deep into his bones, and Dean felt like maybe he could just melt into the chair. Just dissolve into the vinyl and foam and stay in that room until Sammy woke up.

Because Sam was going to wake up.

The alternative was unacceptable.

Cas moved behind him, warm hands settling on Dean's shoulders, bleeding his care, confidence, and love into Dean's body with just his mere presence. He'd have to thank Jo later.

Ellen pushed herself as close to Sam's bed as she could, leaning down to place a kiss on his forehead. She whispered something in his ear, running a hand through his hair as she stood.

Only Adam, Madison, Dean, Cas, Ellen, and Bobby had been allowed to come to the room - and they couldn't stay long. Ellen and Bobby were only there because Dean had started crying,  _again_ , when the doctors said immediate family only.

They were immediate family, Dean had argued, and attempted to make a case for Jo as well, but the docs weren't having it.

Adam and Madison stood against one wall of the cubicle, holding hands. There were tears rolling down Adam's cheeks, and he made no effort to hide them. Bobby held his hat in his hands, his gaze solemn as he watched his wife stroke Sam's hair and whisper soothing things to him.

_They're saying goodbye_ , Dean realized,  _they're saying goodbye_.

"He's not dying," he said angrily, startling his family with the outburst. He sprang to his feet, fury burning hot in his veins. "Stop looking at him like you're seeing him for the last time! He's not dying! Dammit, I'm not going to let him die, do you hear me? Stop mourning him! He's not gone, he's not dying, he's not, he's not, he's -"

"Dean."

"No, Cas, he's not dying," he whispered, "he's not, they're all acting like he's - like he's -" and again he was crying, sobbing, actually. Cas wrapped him in his arms and pulled him tight against his chest. "He's not dying!" Dean howled, face buried in Cas's shirt.

It hurt. It hurt so bad, he felt like his heart was literally breaking, shattering into a thousand tiny shards.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Sammy was going to come work for him, he was going to get to see his nieces every day, him and Jess would make Christmas cookies together and go grocery shopping together - she couldn't be gone, and his precious, brilliant, gym-crazy, health-conscious, wonderful little brother wasn't lying in a hospital bed, barely hanging on, no, it wasn't real, it was a nightmare, and he just needed to wake up.

He needed to wake up in his bed, wake up and give A.J. his morning bottle, go to work, and everything would be fine. He just had to wake up.

"Shh, it's ok, Dean, it's ok. You're exhausted. I'm going to take you home and -"

"No! No, I'm not leaving him!" He shoved Cas away. "You can't expect me to leave him here all alone, what if he wakes up?! He'll be terrified and he'll try and pull the breathing tube out and I'm not - I'm not leaving him!"

"Yes, you are," Ellen insisted, dropping into that scary mom tone she'd used on him when he was an obnoxious thirteen year old. "You're going to let Cas take you home and you're gonna get some sleep, and then you come back later. But you're going, if I have to kick you out of here myself!" She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down.

"No. I'm not going anywhere. Screw all of you! Ten seconds ago, you all looked at him like he was dying, what do you care?! Just fuckin' go! Ok? Fuckin' go. I'll take care of Sammy, just like I always have, just like I always will! Fuckin' go! Goddammit!"

He stared all of them down, daring one more person to open their mouths and suggest he go home.

"Dean," Cas said softly. "This isn't helping. Do you hear me? This isn't helping." Cas's voice was calm, reassuring, his hands raised placatingly. "Sam wouldn't want this. If he could see you now, see how you look, he'd demand you go home and rest."

"I can't leave him," Dean whispered, his anger dissolving into despair again, the change making him feel dizzy, "if he wakes up -"

"You and I both know that's not going to happen today. His body needs time to heal. He needs the rest. I'm taking you home, and once you've slept a few hours, we'll come back. Ok?"

Dean felt his legs give out and nodding woodenly, he dropped back onto the chair. The tension in the room faded some, and his anger was gone, replaced by exhaustion. "Ok. I'll go. Just give me a minute, please?"

The others nodded. Ellen kissed the top of his head. She, Bobby, Adam, and Madison all spent a moment with Sam before leaving the room.

"I'll wait outside," Cas murmured.

"Ok."

A nurse came in as Cas was leaving, but she only stayed long enough to take Sam's temp and blood pressure readings.

Alone with Sam, Dean reached for his brother's right hand, mindful of the I.V. port.

"Sammy? I don't know if you can hear me, but I've read a lot of articles and stuff about people in comas being able to hear their family members talking to them and stuff and uh - anyway. You're gonna be ok, ok? You're not gonna up and take off. Because your girls need you. So don't leave. 'Cause the girls need you. Don't worry about how sick you are. We'll get you through it. We can handle anything, right? Sonuvabitch, this is the worst pep talk in the history of pep talks isn't it?" Dean sighed.

"Remember, 'bout a year ago when I was really sick? I told you to stop visiting me so much? Yeah, you told me shut up, and that if the situation was reversed, they wouldn't be able to pry me from your bedside with a crowbar? Remember that? I do. I was sick as hell, but I remember that. Well, you were right. Look, Cas is making me go home and sleep, but dammit, I'm going to be here. I'm going to be here the whole time, and you're going to get better. Because you're goddamn Sam fuckin' Winchester, and you always did the stuff people said you couldn't. So if they're sayin' you're never gonna be the same again, well fuck them. Sam fuckin' Winchester never met a challenge he couldn't beat, right? Right, Sammy?"

Dean felt the tears spill out of his eyes again, rolling down his cheeks faster than he could wipe them away.

"I really need you to beat this one, ok? Can you do that for me? Just beat this one. I'll be there. I'll help you every step of the way, ok? Just promise me you'll fight. Just fight, Sammy. Please."

Cas reappeared in the doorway. "Dean? It's time to go, ok?"

Dean nodded, and stood, swiping at the constant flow of tears. "I'll be back," he said softly, leaning over to kiss Sam's forehead.

"Don't leave me, Sammy. Don't you fucking go, ok? Don't you fucking go."

  
  



	9. Where Do We Go From Here?

Somewhere between the hospital and home, Dean completely shut down. He hadn't fallen asleep, but he'd stopped talking, stopped responding to Cas at all. The tears had stopped before they left the hospital, and Dean just sat there, slumped against the passenger door of his beloved car.

Cas imagined that maybe Dean was drawing strength from her, the one solid constant in his life. He'd told Cas more than once that Baby was more than a car to him; she was a home, a friend, a family member. The car had seen him through all of his life. He'd been born in her front seat, as John Winchester fought to get to the hospital in a snowstorm. He'd grown up in her leather interior, as John dragged him and Sam from one town to the next, running from his own demons as he searched for things to occupy his time. And Dean had lost his virginity in her backseat, at the tender age of fifteen.

The Impala meant more to him than any other thing he owned in this world. Even after the fire, when everyone told him she was beyond repair, Dean never once considered scraping her. It had never even crossed his mind. He  _would_  fix the Impala. He had to.

They pulled into the driveway as the sun came up just after six. Dean let Cas lead him inside, and he sat at the bar in the kitchen and watched disinterestedly as Cas made some cinnamon raisin oatmeal. He spooned some into a bowl and set the bowl and a spoon in front of him.

"Not hungry," Dean murmured, pushing the bowl away.

"Dean, it's been a very long time since you had a meal. You have to eat  _something_."

Sighing, Dean picked up the spoon. He scooped one spoonful out of the bowl and stared blankly at it.

"Please eat."

Dean finally put the spoonful in his mouth, and turning back to the stove, Cas scooped up some oatmeal for himself and stirred a little more brown sugar into it. Dean didn't like it as sweet as he did.

They ate in silence. Dean didn't finish, but he ate at least half of the cereal. Cas cleaned up the mess, then set a pill and a glass of water on the counter.

"Take it," he ordered.

"What is it?" Dean asked, picking it up.

"One of your Xanax. It will calm you down and knock you out. You need to sleep and I know you're worked up enough that you won't without some kind of help. So take it."

Dean took the pill without another word. He let Cas take him upstairs, help him through a shower, and put him to bed. Once Dean was settled, buried under the fluffy duvet, Cas turned to go, but Dean's hand shot out, grabbing his wrist and tugging him towards the bed.

"Please don't go," Dean said softly.

"I was going to go get A.J. -"

"I know. But I'm so tired, I know it won't take long for me to fall asleep. Please stay. Just until I pass out. I'm so - I'm so -" A tear rolled slowly down Dean's cheek. "I'm so scared, Cas - I just don't want to be alone. Just until I fall asleep, please?"

"Ok." Cas walked around to the other side of the bed, crawling in beside Dean. He laid down next to him, pulling Dean back against his chest and wrapping his arms tight around him. He held his husband until the latest crying jag turned into soft snores, until his body relaxed into the bed.

He waited until he was sure Dean was deeply asleep before slipping from the bed. Cas grabbed some clean clothes out of their dresser and took a long, hot shower, reveling in the feel of the water beating on his tired back and shoulders.

Cas shaved and dressed quickly. He checked on Dean one last time, kissing his forehead before leaving the room.

It was well after seven by then, and sunlight filled the first floor of their home. Cas took a look around, and he could see how tired Dean must have been that week. Dean had always been something of a neat-nick, insisting that everything in the house be in it's place.

The house wasn't the least bit dirty, but there was clutter on every surface; a stack of clean diapers and wipes on the coffee table, baby blankets slung over the back of the couch and the rocking chair, a basket of unfolded baby clothes near the couch, empty bottles lined up next to the sink, and a large stack of untouched mail on the breakfast bar. It was obvious Dean had a trying week, putting in hours at the shop and taking care of A.J., all while helping Sam and Jess plan their escape.

Cas sighed and dragged a hand through his still damp hair. What had it cost Dean, to be the single parent left behind? What would it cost him now, when Cas inevitably went back to work, back to New York to continue filming the show?

He slipped on a pair of shoes and stepped out onto the back porch, crossing the wet grass to Missouri's backyard, climbing the steps of the deck he and Dean had built for her.

She saw him coming and slid open the door to let him in. Cas let Missouri pull him into her arms and hold him for a moment.

"How's Dean?" she asked softly, adjusting her purple bathrobe as she released Cas.

"Doing his best to hold himself together. He's struggling."

"He's sleeping now?"

"Yes. I made him take a Xanax. He's sound asleep. I came to get the baby."

Missouri nodded. "He just had his morning bottle. Little fella slept through the night. I fed him around ten, and didn't hear from him again until just now." She led Cas through the house to her own room, where she'd set up the portable crib.

A.J. was lying in the bassinet attachment, little arms waving. Cas heart swelled with warmth and love as he scooped his tiny son into his arms.

"Hello there," he murmured, kissing the top of his downy head. "Papa missed you, sweetheart."

"He's such a little angel, Cas. Always so good for me."

"I missed him and Dean so much. It's good to be home - I just hate that it's under these conditions."

Missouri's brow furrowed. "Andrea said Jessica -"

Cas nodded. "And Sam's not doing well. He's barely hanging on. I don't believe the doctors are holding much hope for him. Dean, of course, won't hear it."

"Sam was his whole world for a very long time. That is not someone Dean's going to be able to let go of."

"I know. I'm honestly afraid of how he'll react if something does happen to Sam." Cas sat down on Missouri's couch, running his index finger down A.J.'s cheek. "I swear he got bigger."

"They do that. You blink, and they're in high school. Blink again, and they're married with babies of their own." Missouri smiled at him, but Cas could see the pain in her eyes. "Then one day, you wake up and they're gone." She dropped onto the couch beside Cas. "And maybe if you're lucky, the Good Lord will see fit to park you next to some other ones that need a little mothering."

"Indeed."

"Five years and it feels like yesterday. Every time Dean tells me he's grateful for me, I just want to wrap him in my arms and tell him how grateful I am for him. That sweet boy - he doesn't have any idea how much good you two have been for  _me_."

"He's right though, I don't know what we'd do without you. You're a big help to both of us."

"Just paying it forward, sweetie."

A.J. yawned, stretching his little arms above his head. He smacked his lips and scrunched his face up.

"He looks just like Dean when he does that," Cas grinned, tickled with his perfect little boy.

* * *

It was dark when Dean startled awake, pushed out of sleep by the insistent vibrating of his cell. He fumbled for it, cursing loudly when he knocked it off the nightstand. By the time he finally got his hand on it, it had stopped ringing.

Blinking at the brightness of the screen in his darkened bedroom, Dean read the screen. Two missed calls from the Moores.

Fuck.

He couldn't be less ready to talk to Jess's parents - he couldn't even imagine the grief they must be dealing with. Losing their only daughter - their only child - yeah, that had to be beyond painful.

Dean set the phone back on the nightstand and rolled to a sitting position, dropping his feet to the floor. He stumbled into the bathroom, wincing as he turned the light on. The door to the bedroom opened as he was finishing, and Cas slipped into the room.

"I thought I heard you up and moving around."

"Yeah. I slept all day."

"Mmm, well you needed it. Don't feel bad."

"I need to get cleaned up and get to the hospital."

"Dean, it's after eight. They won't let you in this late. Ellen spent most of the day there. There's been no change."

Feeling like someone snipped the strings holding him up, Dean dropped back onto the bed. "Fuck. I didn't mean to sleep all day."

Cas sat beside him on the bed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "I think it's safe to say you clearly needed it. Missouri said you'd had a rough week. Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"I dunno, I guess I figured you had your own stuff to deal with."

"I swear, you never learn."

"It's not like that, Cas," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "Things were fine. It's normal for a parent to lose sleep with a newborn in the house, and if it had become an issue, I would have taken time off. It's not like Benny needs me around anyway."

"Dean -"

"I know, I know, I'm being a dick," he muttered. He rubbed his eyes, annoyed at how dry and scratchy they felt. "You really think I can't sneak in to see Sam? Maybe just for a minute? Especially if Lisa's working. I should call her." Dean reached for his phone, but Cas stilled his hands, pulling him closer.

"There's no change. Stay home. Rest. Spend some time with A.J."

"I should at least go for a bit, just let him hear my voice," he said, slipping out of Cas's arms and heading for his dresser. "Just gotta get a quick shower."

"Dean -"

"'Cause sleeping for fourteen hours, pretty sure I don't smell great." He pulled clean underwear and a fresh tee out.

"Dean -"

"I mean, if he heard my voice, it might help right? It might -"

"Dean!"

Dean froze, and turned back to look at Cas. He didn't like the look on his husband's face. "I just - for just a few minutes, ok? Just to let him hear my voice."

Cas stood and crossed the room, taking Dean's hands and setting the tee and boxers back on the dresser. "Dean, I think you need to just stay here tonight. You need a meal, and probably some more rest."

"But Sammy -"

"I know. Not tonight, Dean. Ok? It's not going to make a difference. You need rest. You need food."

"Dammit Cas! I slept all day, and I'm just asking for a few minutes!" He yanked his body out of Cas's embrace, gathering his clothes and heading for the bathroom. "I don't get it. Why are you trying to convince me not to go?"

"Because it's late, and you're going to get upset. I'd just rather you stayed here, spent some time with me and A.J. and then we can go to the hospital as a family tomorrow morning. And there's other things we need to discuss. Sam has you set up as power of attorney, and we've also been left with custody of the girls should something happen to Sam and Jess."

The girls. Holy shit, in all of this, he'd forgotten about the girls.

Dean's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Where are they now?"

"With Jo and Charlie next door. We haven't told Mari yet."

"Oh fuck." Dean dropped his clothes on the sink and walked back out to the bedroom, the exhaustion pushing his ire away. "I didn't even - I forgot about the girls. Jesus." He scrubbed a hand over his face.

"It's ok. We'll deal with that together."

"I wonder if that's why Jess's parents' were calling me? To find out where the girls are? Who told them, by the way?"

"Madison and Adam left the hospital and drove up to Omaha to tell them in person."

"Oh. That's good," Dean said distractedly. "So a lawyer or something stopped by?"

"A friend of Sam's." Cas pulled Dean towards the bed, pushing him back into it. "Sam was very well organized. He named you as his power of attorney, which means any medical decisions will fall on your shoulders. He named both of us as responsible for the girls, in the case of death or incapacitation."

"Ok. So we need to - we need to - shit, where's A.J.?"

"Downstairs, sound asleep in his crib. A.J. is fine."

"That's - that's good."

"Dean, come downstairs with me. Let me make you something to eat, and then we'll figure out where to go from here."

"I should call Jess's parents."

"Food first."

Dean acquiesced and let Cas lead him downstairs. Cas continued to the kitchen, while Dean went to go check on A.J.

The baby was laying on his back, wrapped in a little blue blanket, tiny fists extended over his head. Dean smiled, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He smiled when he realized Cas had put him in the Lightning McQueen sleeper he'd bought on that trip to Target with Charlie, all those weeks ago.

It seemed like an eternity. Everything had been so bright and beautiful, he'd been so happy and hopeful.

Now, he had a funeral to plan. Two little girls to take care of. And god only knew what would happen to Sam.

Dean's shoulders bowed with the sudden weight placed upon them, and he stared down at A.J., trying very hard to push back the wave of terror and despair trying to push out of his chest and into the open.

He stumbled back from the crib, his knees going weak as he dropped into the rocker. Dean stared up at the wall over A.J.'s crib, looking at all the familiar eyes staring back at him in the form of the Disney-style cars painted there, and he couldn't tear his gaze from Jess's car - a white Pathfinder with bright blue eyes.

Dean didn't know when he'd started crying, or where the broken sobs had come from, but Cas was there, wrapping his arms tight around him as A.J. woke, echoing his Daddy's broken cries.

He couldn't lose Sam. Not his brother. Not his baby brother.

* * *

It took some time, but Cas did manage to get both Dean and A.J. calmed down. Once A.J. was fed, diapered, and resting in the baby swing, Cas made some ham and eggs for Dean. He brought the plate over to the den, where Dean was sitting on the couch, staring at A.J. rocking in the swing.

He set the plate on the coffee table. "Eat, Dean. Please."

"I'm not hungry," Dean whispered.

"I know. But you have to eat. We can't do this anymore, and you know it. Eat."

Dean turned broken eyes up towards Cas. "I can't. If I eat, I'm going to throw it up. My stomach is tossing and I really don't think I could get it down if I tried. I'm sorry, I know you need me to eat, I'm sorry, Cas." His already red-rimmed eyes filled with tears.

"Ok, ok. Maybe a smoothie then? Just to get something in your stomach?"

Dean nodded. Cas took the plate and went back to the kitchen. He ate the food on Dean's plate while he pulled out orange juice, strawberries, bananas, and yogurt. Dropping everything in the blender, he made Dean's smoothie while he finished the rest of the eggs.

Cas was worried about his husband. He expected Dean to be upset - hell, if it were Gabe in Sam's position, Cas would be a wreck, too - but he guessed he hadn't realized just how upset Dean would be. He was falling apart, buckling under the strain and the worry.

Maybe he should have let him go to the hospital.

"Here," he said, handing the glass to Dean. "Please try and get this down at least."

Taking the glass, Dean leaned back against the couch, sipping the drink through a straw. "I'm sorry," he said softly, in between sips. "I don't think I'm handling this very well."

"It's ok," Cas gently rubbed Dean's knee as he sat beside him. "It's Sam. I understand. We'll handle it. We'll deal with whatever comes."

"I'm scared, really scared - but I guess that's obvious. And I'm not looking forward to telling Mari, or planning Jess's funeral. Oh shit, I probably should call the Moores back."

"Finish your smoothie first."

"Ok."

They sat in silence while Dean drained the rest of the drink. He handed Cas the empty glass.

"Want another one?"

"Nah, I'm good. I'm going to call the Moores, ok? And then walk next door and check on the girls. If they're up, I'll bring them back here, put Mari in Ben's bed. I guess Felicity can use A.J.'s crib and he can sleep upstairs with us?"

"Works for me."

"Ok." He pulled out his phone and dialed the Moores, while Cas went to clean the kitchen. Dean stepped out onto the back porch, pulling the door shut behind him. Cas washed the rest of the baby bottles, and separated and cleaned the various blender parts, drying and putting them away afterwards.

Dean was still on the deck, pacing back and forth with the phone pressed to his ear. He looked frustrated.

Cas finished cleaning the kitchen as Dean came in the door.

"Everything ok?"

"No. The Moores are coming down here, which makes sense, but they want to take Jess back to Omaha and bury her and they're mad because I said no. According to the papers Sam's friend dropped off, I'm in charge. So I'm saying no. She should be buried where her daughters can visit her grave, not to mention if Sam - if Sam -" Dean's voice cracked. "If he were to - I mean - I should be able to bury them together." He said the words softly, his shoulders slumping. "Am I wrong? Should I let them take her?"

"No. Her parents may be in Omaha, but her family is here. And, god forbid, if something happens to Sam, the girls become ours."

"Exactly," Dean murmured. "They should be able to visit their parents in the same place - if it comes down to that. Because I really need Sam to hang on and get better."

"I know," Cas said, wrapping an arm around Dean's shoulders. "Do you want to go get the girls? I can do it if you want to stay put."

"No, I'll go. But I'm going to need you to help me tell Mari."

"Tonight? Or tomorrow?"

Dean thought about that for a moment. "Tomorrow. Let her sleep well tonight. We'll tell her tomorrow."

"Ok." He pulled Dean close, hugging him as tightly as possible. "I love you." He kissed Dean's forehead.

"I love you, too. God, I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too. And I'll stay as long as I can."

"That's good. I'm worried I'm going to have to fight with Jess's parents. And that makes me feel sick. We shouldn't be fighting about this." Dean shook his head. "Fuck, Cas, where do we go from here?"

"We take it one day at a time, Dean. One day at a time."

* * *

Mari didn't understand. She just couldn't latch on to the idea that Mommy wasn't coming back. She was perfectly fine with staying with Uncle Dean and Uncle Cas, but Mari seemed convinced it was just until Mommy and Daddy came home.

Dean didn't know what else to do.

"Are you going to the hospital this morning? I'll stay here with the girls and A.J. if you want." Missouri set a basket of muffins on the counter.

"Yeah, I guess - that would be good. Missouri, I don't know what to say to her. She just thinks Sam and Jess are on a trip or something and will be home soon." Dean's eyes tracked the little girl dancing around his living room, singing along with Elsa and Anna. "I don't know what to do."

"Take it as it comes, honey. It's not easy, I know. But she'll figure it out. And then she's going to need you."

Sighing, Dean rested his elbows on the breakfast bar, burying his face in his hands. "I know - you're right," he mumbled.

"Of course I am. Here," she said, "eat one of these while they're hot." She pushed a muffin on a plate towards him, and refilled his coffee and set it beside the plate. "Eat up, honey."

"Why is everyone always trying to feed me?" Dean asked irritably, peeling the wrapper from the muffin all the same.

"Because we know you," Cas said, as he kissed Dean's neck. "Sometimes you require babysitting."

"Hey," Dean protested weakly. It was true and he knew it. He took a long whiff of Cas's neck. "Mmm, you smell good."

"Took a shower. Even left some hot water for you." Cas's looked into the living room, blue eyes watching Mari dance. "Worried about her," he said quietly.

"It'll be ok," Missouri told him, handing Cas his own plate and mug of coffee. "We'll take it as it comes."

Cas nodded. "Dean, as soon as you get done and showered, we'll go, ok?"

"Ok."

Half an hour later, they walked into Sam's quiet ICU cubicle. Nothing had changed, Ellen had been right about that. Dean got as close to Sam as he could, reaching for his undamaged right hand.

"Hey. I'm here, ok? I'm here. Everything's gonna be ok. The girls are at my house, and Missouri's making cookies with Mari. I've got that under control. So you just concentrate on getting better, ok?"

Cas rested a hand on his back, rubbing between Dean's shoulder blades. He soaked in the comfort Cas was offering, grateful to have him there. They pulled chairs close to the bed, and Dean sat right next to Sam, taking his hand again.

He wondered if Sam would tease him for holding his hand like this, but Dean didn't care. He needed the connection, needed to be able to feel the warmth of Sam's body and reassure himself that Sam was still with them, still fighting.

They sat there, both of them talking to Sam about mundane things, just to keep a level of conversation going. Dean was convinced it was a good thing to keep voices going in the room, to give Sam something to latch on to and maybe use as something of a rope to climb out of unconsciousness.

Dean had managed to doze off slightly, but woke to the sound of more voices in the room. He blinked open his eyes to find Cas standing near the door of the room.

Lee and Jenna Moore stood in the doorway of Sam's room, and neither one looked very happy. Cas led them out into the hallway and out of Dean's view.

His heart sank. He didn't want this, didn't want to have to argue with Jess's parents. Jess would have wanted to be buried near her family, near where her daughters were living. It occurred to him that the Moores might fight Sam's carefully drawn up custody arrangements.

His stomach tossed.

Dean squeezed Sam's hand. "Now would be a damn good time to wake up, Sammy," he muttered.

A doctor walked into Sam's room.

"Mr. Winchester? I'm Dr. Vinton. I need to talk to you about Sam. I understand you're the decision maker as far as his medical care is concerned?"

"Yeah."

"Then you need to be made aware - Sam's chances of regaining consciousness are extremely low. There may come a time when it will make sense to shut off the life support."

Dean's jaw dropped. "Wh-what?"

"Sam's showing very low brain activity. We're not calling it brain death as of yet, but it doesn't look good. The machines are the only thing keeping him alive. It may be something we need to consider if he continues to decline."

"Are you - are you asking me to do this now? I thought you said - or somebody said - first twenty-four hours - and he made that, didn't he? He's still hanging on -" Dean could hear the hysterical pitch rising in his own voice, but were they seriously asking him this?

Were they seriously asking him to turn off the only thing keeping Sam alive?

"As I said, this isn't a decision that needs to be made now. It's simply something that has to be considered -"

"There's nothing to consider!" Dean bellowed, springing from the chair so hard, it shot out behind him. "I'm not turning his machines off! I have the money, if that's what you're worried about! I can pay his damn medical bills!"

"Mr. Winchester, that's not what this is about. It's about doing what's best for Sam."

"And I'll damn well decide what's best for Sam! I'm not turning his machines off, and I've got power of attorney, so I fucking dare you to fight me on this! I dare you!"

"Dean." Cas, ever unflappable Cas, at his elbow and wrapping his arms around him. "Deep breaths. Calm down. They're not telling you to do this now."

"I'm not doing it ever! Fuckin' hell!"

"Dean, this isn't helping Sam. Remember, you're the one that told me that sometimes coma patients can hear what's going on around them."

Dean deflated, drooping in Cas's hold.

"In fact," Cas continued, directing his glare at the doctor, "I would have thought a discussion like this would have been conducted somewhere other than the patient's room. It seems incredibly unprofessional."

Dr. Vinton blanched under the intensity of Cas's stare, and Dean almost felt bad for the guy. Almost.

"Perhaps further discussions can be held later. In my office, of course. I'll leave you to your visit," he said, backing out of the room.

Cas turned Dean in his arms, bringing them face to face. "You ok?"

"No," Dean muttered, burying his face in Cas's neck. His husband ran his hands up and down Dean's spine, holding him until the hysteria passed and Dean could raise his face again.

"I'm sorry. I wish I'd have been here when he came in."

"It's ok. Where did Jess's parents go?"

"I sent them down to the cafeteria. They want to speak with us, but again, I didn't think that should happen in Sam's room."

Turning his head to look at Sam, Dean sighed. "Yeah. I guess they're going to fight me about Jess, aren't they?"

"I think so. Stand your ground, Dean. Sam and Jess signed legal documents that will protect you."

"And you'll be with me. So that'll help."

Cas nodded. "I'll be with you every step of the way. And even when I do need to go back to finish filming, I'll come home as much as I can. I swear."

"Ok." Dean rubbed his eyes. "Let's get this over with, then."

Dean leaned over Sam, gently sliding his hand over Sam's forehead. "I'll be back, ok? Just hang in there. Don't listen to the bullshit that doc was spilling. You're gonna be fine. I got the girls. I'm taking care of everything. You concentrate on getting better, and I'll be back in a bit. Ok?" He kissed Sam's forehead. "Back in a bit. Promise." Cas reached for Dean's hand as he straightened back up and wove their fingers together.

Dean had a sinking feeling that he was going to need every ounce of strength Cas was offering.

  
  



	10. I Can Handle This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thirty-eight days since I last updated. I am ashamed. I'm sorry to say, there's been major upheaval in my life. I've separated from my husband, moved back to Baltimore, and started a new job. I'm still going to try and continue updating on a more regular basis. So thanks in advance for your patience. At any rate, here you go, an update!

The days after the accident were a blur of midnight feedings and tending to Sam and Jess's daughters - and fighting with the Moores. Jess's funeral was on a sunny Friday in October, less than a week after the accident. Dean had won the battle against the Moores, although he'd be the first to admit it felt nothing like a victory, and Jess was being buried beside other members of the Winchester family.

There was another empty spot, an open plot. It made the skin on Dean's arms burst into goose pimples to think it could be filled by his brother at some point.

Mari finally figured it out - that her Mommy wasn't coming back - and had been clinging to Dean's neck for the entirety of the funeral, crying so hard she'd finally just lapsed in hard little shudders.

Dean was numb. He didn't feel anything anymore. Something inside him had shut off, and he tended to Mari on autopilot, hand rubbing comfortingly over her back without his permission or knowledge. His body knew what to do, even if he didn't.

Jenna Moore was inconsolable, sobbing over her daughter's coffin. Maybe he should have let them take her back to Omaha. They'd spent two days arguing back and forth, even as Dean purchased the plots next to his parents' graves and ordered the coffin. Jo and Charlie had driven up to Sam's house and picked a pretty white suit for Jess to be buried in - not that it mattered. She'd been so badly damaged in the accident, the funeral director had recommended closed casket. Dean didn't argue.

Cas led him and Mari from the grave at the conclusion of the service, settling Dean into the passenger seat of the Impala. Mari was dead weight in his arms, having lapsed into sleep from her crying jag. He felt, rather than saw, Cas take her from his arms and move her to a car seat. Felicity and A.J. were buckled into their seats already. Cas had taken care of everything, which was a damn good thing, since Dean felt like he was barely functioning enough to breathe at that point.

In an hour or so, their little house was stuffed to the gills with friends and family, including a lot of people that Dean didn't know or recognize - friends and relatives of Jess, people that he'd seen maybe once in his life at her and Sam's wedding - and between the influx of strangers and the dark looks Jenna continued throwing at him, Dean was grateful for A.J.'s wails.

He took his son from Missouri, along with a fresh bottle Ellen offered him, and disappeared up the steps to his bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Let someone else play host for a while.

He changed A.J.'s diaper and settled them both in the bed, snuggled up against the pillows. Dean wedged a pillow under his arm, and put the bottle in the baby's mouth, smiling a bit when his son latched on and began enthusiastically sucking. He ran his fingers over the sparse little tufts of dark hair on A.J.'s head. He was quickly losing his birth hair, and would likely be completely bald by his two month birthday. A.J.'s eyes were still the deep denim blue of a newborn, and not for the first time, Dean wondered what their final color would be, hoping for that vibrant blue he found in his husband's irises.

The door opened, and Ellen poked her head inside. "Ok if I join you?" she asked softly.

"Yup."

She pushed the door all the way open, revealing Felicity nestled in her arms, smacking away on her own bottle. "We just needed a quiet place to have lunch. Little Miss was too busy checking everyone else out to eat." Dean smiled as Ellen settled on the bed next to him. "How you holding up, kiddo?"

"Uh, I dunno. I'm tired. And I feel like I should be at the hospital."

"Mmm." Ellen shifted so that Felicity was propped on her left arm, holding her right arm out so that Dean could nestle into her side. "Sam's not alone. Adam left right after the service to go sit with him. You don't have to feel 100% responsible for Sam, sweetie. There's a bunch of us to look out for him, and you still need to remember to take care of you."

"I know," Dean said quietly. A.J. squirmed a little in his arms, and he pulled the bottle out, shifting the baby up to his shoulder for a burp. "The Moores told me they think the girls should come back with them, but that's not what Sam and Jess wanted. What was the point of giving clear instructions if people are just going to ignore them?" A.J. belched and Dean laid him back down.

"Nobody's taking the girls, honey. The law is on your side with this. Sam and Jess made sure of that. Sam is good at his job."

"I know, but I just don't understand why. I mean this situation is hard enough without having to fight about it."

"They just lost their only child, sweetie. It's going to take some time to get used to the idea. They're going to want to cling to those little girls because it's all they have left of Jessica. Be patient, I'm sure they'll be ok in the long run."

"I hope so."

A.J. fussed, and Dean returned the bottle to his mouth, leaning back into Ellen's warmth as he did.

"Cas has to go back to New York Sunday evening and I don't know how the hell I'm going to handle everything."

"What makes you think for one moment we'd leave you alone to deal with all of this?"

"I dunno," Dean sighed, "old habits die hard?"

"Fair enough. But we're all going to be here for you. Don't you doubt that for a minute. You've got Jo and Charlie next door, the Lafittes across the street, and if you think for a minute that Missouri wouldn't drop everything to help you, you don't give that lady enough credit."

"I know. She's adopted us."

"She's grateful for everything you and Cas did for her, helping remodel that house. Not to mention, I think looking after you two helps ease the ache of losing her son."

"Maybe." A.J. finished his bottle and Dean set it to the side. "God, I'm tired. I'm exhausted."

"Can't imagine why," Ellen said wryly, moving Felicity to lie on her belly against Ellen's chest. The little girl shoved her fingers into her mouth and gazed up at Dean with heavy-lidded blue eyes.

"He's going to be ok," Dean said softly, "he has to be. I can't lose him."

Ellen sighed heavily. "I understand why you feel that way, sugar, but you have to be prepared -"

"I know," Dean cut her off sharply. "But I don't - I mean, I bought the damn cemetery plot. I'm as prepared as I can be, but I still don't - I still don't -" Dean found it hard to believe that he had any tears left in him, but sure enough, his eyes were burning, and one stupid tear slipped out. "Dammit," he mumbled, swiping at his face with his free hand. He stared down at A.J., trying to find solace in the planes of his sweet boy's face.

Ellen didn't say anything else, but she did squeeze his shoulders where she had her arm wrapped around them. Dean burrowed into her side, like he'd done when he was a child and the pain of being abandoned by John, yet again, became too much to deal with. His strong little boy persona would shatter, and he'd lock himself in Ellen's bathroom to cry. She'd inevitably find him and bring him out, cuddle him in her bed and shower him with the love he should have been receiving all along.

It was a comfortable space for him. Ellen didn't expect anything from Dean. She didn't expect to be entertained or comforted, instead offering the comfort he needed.

He watched as Felicity's eyelids fluttered closed, A.J.'s following suit shortly thereafter. His own exhaustion slipped over him, as Dean drifted further into Ellen's side. She kissed the top of his head, humming _I Walk the Line_ softly under her breath. Dean's own eyelids grew heavy, and it was nothing to just let it all slip away and fall asleep.

* * *

If there was one thing Cas hoped he'd never see again in his life, it was the expression on Dean's face when he left him, A.J., and the girls at the airport. Dean was smiling, but the smile was so fake, and so forced, it hurt Cas to see it. The tears flooding Dean's eyes didn't help either.

"It'll be ok," Dean whispered in his ear as they hugged goodbye. "I'll be ok. Everything will be ok." His voice cracked and broke, and Cas knew he was trying to reassure himself.

"I love you. I'll be home Friday evening, come hell or high water," Cas said as he kissed his temple. "Call me if anything changes."

Dean nodded, too emotional to get anymore words out without having a massive breakdown in the middle of the airport. Cas watched, fascinated, as Dean battened the hatches and put all his walls up.

Leaning over, Cas kissed A.J., sound asleep in the sling against Dean's chest. He kissed the girls as well, hating the blank, shell shocked look Mari had been wearing since Jess's funeral.

Guilt wrapped heavy bands around his heart as he walked away from them, turning once to look back as he went through security.

He shouldn't have looked back.

Mari was sobbing, and Dean was kneeling in front of the double stroller, trying to calm and comfort her all while looking like he was about to fall apart himself. It was almost enough to send him back out of the gate, but he was under contract. And he needed to go.

Sighing, he turned away from his family and finished the security scan. Two hours later, they were in the air, and he ordered a glass of whiskey to dull the pain and guilt.

Back in New York, it was cold and gray, the perfect complement to his bleak mood. He settled into his hotel room and flicked on the TV. Dropping into a chair near the window, Cas sighed as he dialed Dean's number.

" _Hey Cas,"_  Dean said when he answered. His voice sounded small and tired.

"How are you?"

" _Same as I was six hours ago. Exhausted and frustrated."_

Cas frowned. "Did something happen?"

" _No, um - not really? I'm just, I'm just so tired."_ Dean sighed, and Cas could hear the rocker creak as he dropped into it.  _"I wish I could go back to a week ago, when everything was still ok, and - never mind. I've got to suck it up and quit complaining."_

"You can always complain to me. That's why I'm here."

" _Well, the Moores told me they're going to get a lawyer. They think they girls should be with them."_

"Dammit."

" _Yeah."_  Dean sighed again.  _"Fuck, I just wish Sam would wake up. Then they wouldn't be able to say shit. But at the same time, I feel like an ass for fighting them. I mean, they just lost their daughter…"_

"That doesn't give them the right to change what Sam and Jess wanted for the girls. Besides, they're happy with us, as much as they can be. They know us better, spend more time with us. This is what Sam and Jess wanted and that should be enough."

" _I know."_  A plaintive wail sounded in the background and Dean groaned.  _"That's A.J. He's hungry, again. I think he's hit a growth spurt. Figures he'd get up now. I just got Felicity settled down."_

"Ok, well you go give him a kiss from Papa and I'll talk to you later. I love you, Dean. Hang in there."

" _I will and I love you, too. Bye, Cas."_

The call disconnected, and Cas continued to stare out the window into the darkened, rainy streets of the city, and tried desperately not to drown in his homesickness.

The next morning, he found himself with a distinct lack of patience, and had already snapped at Naomi three different times before they broke for lunch at noon.

Cas found himself being dragged into an empty office by a very irritated Balthazar.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

"What the hell do you think is wrong with me? Do you think I want to be here? I don't want to be here, I want to go home. I never should have agreed to this stupid show in the first place! I should be home, helping Dean deal with all of this!"

"Right, and I get that. But we're down to the final four; it's just three more weeks. Get it together, Cassie, honestly. This is ridiculous." Balthazar sat down on the desk and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I know it's not easy. I know damn well you don't want to be here. But you did sign a contract -" he held up a hand placatingly, "- and it truly is almost over. Three lousy weeks, and we'll cut you loose, I swear. And I told you, I will personally see to it that you get home every weekend. I've got it set that we wrap Thursday night. You can leave then, or early Friday morning. I'm trying to work with you here; do you think you might spare me the same kindness?"

Cas sighed. "I'm sorry," he said, contritely. "It's just - it's difficult."

"Darling, I know. Believe me. I understand. If I had someone like Dean waiting for me…" he trailed off. "I understand."

The door opened and John stuck his head in. "Am I interrupting?" he asked with a smile.

"Not really. Did you need me?"

"Actually, I wanted to see if Cas would let me treat him to lunch?"

Balthazar gave John a strange, almost appraising look. "I do suppose that's up to him? Cassie?"

"Yeah, John, that would be good. I need to get out of here for a bit." He gathered his things and stood to leave, surprised when Balthazar grabbed the sleeve of his blazer.

"Just think about what I said, ok?" He cocked an eyebrow at John. "And be careful."

"Ok. I'm sorry. I'll try and be more cooperative."

"I'd appreciate it."

Cas slipped his coat on and followed John out of the office.

"Be careful?" John asked. "What was that all about?"

"Nothing. Let's gets something to eat. I'm hungry."

"Are you ok?" John asked over pizza.

"Not really. I shouldn't be here. I should be at home. Dean is not going to be able to deal with all of this on his own. I should be there."

"Maybe you need to give Dean a chance to prove himself? He might be just fine."

"He might fall apart and stop taking care of himself and end up in the hospital again," Cas retorted darkly. "There's too much on his plate."

"You're just assuming he's not strong enough to deal with it?" John frowned. "Doesn't seem fair to him."

"I know him. You don't."

"Whoa, Cas, no need to get cranky with me. I'm just trying to help." He raised his hands in surrender. "Don't shoot," he chuckled.

Cas smiled despite himself. "I'm quite the little black raincloud, aren't I?"

"Sure are. When you've got all this lovely brick oven pizza and good company, too!"

"Good company?" Cas asked, looking around. "I don't see any good company!" He grinned, feeling himself starting to relax and unwind. "God, I really was an ass this morning, wasn't I?"

"I think we can forgive you. You're going through a lot right now." John helped himself to another slice. "Don't forget, while you're worrying about Dean taking care of himself, make sure you take care of yourself, too."

"I'll do my best," Cas said drily. "I guess I should probably apologize to Naomi."

"Couldn't hurt."

"Mmm."

They both fell silent. Cas took the last piece of pizza, finishing it slowly while he stared out at the rain.

"You know I'd do anything to help you, right?" John said abruptly.

Startled, Cas looked up into earnest blue eyes.

"If you need something, need help, you can ask. I'm your friend, after all. We are friends, right?"

Cas squirmed under the intensity of John's gaze. "Um, of course - of course we're friends." He offered John a sincere smile, and the other man lit up.

"Great! That's great!" He stood and started cleaning up the mess from the pizza. "We should get back, right? It's getting late."

"Right," Cas agreed. Wiping his hands, he watched as John gathered their trash and walked it back to the trashcan in the rear of the tiny hole-in-the-wall pizza joint.

John was just being friendly, he told himself, even as a little voice was whispering warnings in the back of his head. He was just being friendly, and offering help during what he must know was a difficult time.

Walking back towards the front of the pizza place, John threw him a big, bright grin, and Cas felt the tension slide out of his spine.

Yes, Cas was sure. John was just being a good friend.

* * *

Dean huffed as he hauled another basket of laundry up the stairs, sighing when Felicity's wails met his ears.

"Feed one kid, then another wants to eat," he muttered. Dropping the basket on the living room floor, he walked down the hall to the bedroom A.J. had given up for the girls. Felicity was red-faced from screaming, and the room smelled none too fresh.

"Fizzy pooed!" Mari yelled delightedly. "I change Fizzy!"

"Oh fu-. Crap. Oh crap. So much crap," Dean said defeatedly.

Mari was in the crib, her tiny sister completely naked. What looked like an entire box of baby wipes was all over the place and both the wall and the girls were filthy.

"Mari, what did I tell you about getting in your sister's crib?" Dean sighed. "Now you both need baths. As does the crib, the sheets, the wall, jeez." Dean lifted Felicity out of the crib, grimacing as he caught another whiff. "C'mon, get out of there Mari. Let's go get in the tub."

Dean managed to wrangle both girls into the downstairs bath and get them cleaned up. Just as Dean finished bathing the girls, A.J. started crying, too.

"Crap, crap, crap!"

"Wassa matta, Unca Dee?"

"Nothing, sweetheart. I'm just - I'm tired, and I need to make you dinner, and I'm probably not going to make it to the hospital -"

Mari started sobbing.

"What? What's wrong, baby girl?"

"I miss Mommy!" she wailed.

Dean dropped onto the couch. It was as if his body lacked the strength to hold him upright any longer. Mari was howling and clinging to his leg, A.J. was screaming in the pack and play, and he was pretty sure Felicity had just peed through the towel he'd wrapped her in, soaking his jeans.

To add insult to injury, as soon as Felicity realized Mari was crying, she decided to join in.

Dean followed pretty quickly, and that was how Missouri found the four of them, Dean crying softly into the wet towel he'd wrapped around his baby niece.

"Oh, honey, why didn't you call me?" Missouri asked, taking the baby from Dean and grabbing a diaper.

"I thought I could handle it!" Dean said unhappily, as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Sweetie, calling me for help  _is_ handling it! I told you I would help. That didn't mean wait until things got completely unbearable. It's after six, Dean, and I'm willing to bet none of you have eaten yet."

Dean shook his head. "I just - everything went to hell today. Every time I thought I had a minute - Missouri, I can't do this. I can't take care of A.J. and Sam's girls too, I'm just - I can't." Tears streamed down his face and he let them.

Mari climbed up in his lap and wrapped her arms around him. "I cold, Unca Dee," she sniffled, rubbing at her own red eyes. Dean looked down, surprised to find he had a naked two year old on his lap.

"See? Mari's not even dressed!"

Missouri finished dressing Felicity and set her in the baby swing. "Then go get her dressed and change your pants. I'll take care of A.J. and get Miss Felicity a bottle. Then we're going to get everyone fed, and get you off to the hospital before visiting hours end. Understand?"

Dean stared blankly at her.

"Well, go on then. Go get her and yourself dressed!"

"Missouri, look, I'm just - I don't -"

She walked back to where he was still sitting on the couch. Taking his hand in hers, she squeezed it and smiled down at him. "Honey. Let me help. Ok?"

He nodded.

"Ok. Go on now."

Forty-five minutes later, everyone was fed, and Dean was on his way to the hospital.

There was pretty much no word for the level of exhaustion he'd reached, and all he wanted was Cas to pop back up and hold him tight. But that wasn't going to happen, at least not until Friday, so Dean was determined to suck it up and deal with things.

He'd been in the Army after all; and this was far from the first time things had been tough, or difficult. He could handle this.

Dean's cell rang, and he fished it out of his pocket, frowning when he read  _Jenna Moore_  on the caller ID. Dean silenced the ringer and put the phone back in his coat pocket. He'd call her _after_  he spent some time with Sam.

Lisa was in Sam's room when Dean got to the ICU.

"Hey, Leese," Dean greeted her. "How's our boy?" he asked, slipping on a fake smile.

"No change. He's plugging along - no fever, no infection." Lisa finished writing on Sam's chart, and flicked her dark hair over her shoulder. "Thought we'd have seen you earlier, actually. Visiting hours are almost over."

"I know," Dean grimaced, dropping into a chair. "It was a bad day. I almost didn't make it at all."

"Well, I can probably run interference for you until nine-ish, but not beyond that, ok?"

"Yup. I'd appreciate it."

Lisa set Sam's chart on the table beside the bed, then came over and put her hand on Dean's shoulder. "How are you doing? And tell me the truth."

Dean sighed heavily. "Not great, to be honest. The Moores want to take the girls back to Omaha with them, and today, man, Murphy's Law was alive and well in my house. Murphy's a douche, by the way."

"But you are taking care of yourself?" She rubbed her hand soothingly over his shoulder to his neck, and gently massaged the muscles there. "I don't need both of you in here. You got your health scare last year. No more of that," she finished sternly.

"No, none of that. I've been eating and resting as much I can. I have a newborn, y'know?"

"I know. Just remember - you're important, too, ok?"

"Ok."

"Alright. I'll let you visit with Sam."

He nodded as she left the room.

Dean surveyed his brother critically. Although it had only been a week, the weight loss was beginning to show. His cheeks were sunken beneath the blue tubes of the vent, and the thin, clear NG tube. He was very pale, almost all of his summer tan having faded already. Some of the cuts on his face were no longer bandaged, but hadn't quite healed, and much of his exposed skin was mottled in tones of yellow and purple bruising, with dark burgundy scabs here and there.

Not to mention the heavy cast on his left arm, and the blank spot where his left leg had been.

Dean sighed, and rubbed his face. Standing, he pulled his chair closer to the right side of Sam's bed. He reached out and took his brother's hand, gently squeezing.

"Hey, man. Tried to get here earlier today, but my house was a total circus until Missouri rescued me. Your daughters decided to redecorate the nursery in lovely, fragrant brown tones. Well, what actually happened was Mari decided to be helpful and change Felicity. Yeah, I'm sure you can imagine the rest. Mari calls her Fizzy. Cutest thing ever, huh?"

Sam didn't respond. Dean didn't understand why he thought he would.

"Dude, this is getting old. Be damn nice if you'd just go ahead and open your eyes, y'know?"

He didn't feel like talking anymore. Dean leaned back against his chair, still holding Sam's hand. Time ticked away, and before he knew it, Lisa was giving him the heads up.

Dean pulled himself from the chair and pushed it out of the way. "Guess it's time for me to boogie. I'll try and get here sooner tomorrow. I'm sorry I was so late today." He picked up Sam's hand and squeezed it again, then leaned over to kiss Sam's forehead. "See ya, dude. Hang in there ok?" Dean turned to go, but froze, turning back to look at Sam.

Sam's eyes were open.

  
  



	11. Surfacing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hola, patient readers! I'm starting to feel like I'm getting my mojo back, so hopefully this will be the beginning of regular updates. Love you guys.
> 
> Also, this is the point in the story where it's going to start taking a decided slant towards Sam's POV, but no worries. Dean and Cas are still the focus. There will just be a lot more Sam. He's got a lot to deal with.

Dean stood well out of the way while doctors and nurses fussed over Sam. He could see his brother's eyes, still open, but unmoving. Blue-green irises stared at the ceiling, not reacting to the beam of a penlight the doctor was using.

Lisa looked up, caught Dean's eyes. Her expression was apologetic, and Dean's heart sank. They'd warned him about this. Coma patients often opened their eyes without actually waking up.

The staff around Sam's bed gradually dispersed, and Dean moved closer, picking up Sam's right hand, and staring down into his blank expression.

"Sammy?"

Sam blinked, but his expression didn't change. Dean sighed.

"I'm so sorry, Dean. Sometimes this happens. I know it's difficult to see him like this. God, I'm so sorry." Lisa rested her hand on his back. "You should go home, try and get some sleep. Ok?"

He nodded, eyes still fixed on Sam. "Ok," Dean whispered.

Lisa patted his back once more before leaving the room.

"C'mon, Sammy," Dean pleaded softly. "Blink, twitch, something. Wake up. Please. Please wake up."

Nothing changed and Dean gently laid his brother's hand back on the bed. "Ok. Guess I'll see you tomorrow."

Dean picked his coat up and slid it back on. He turned to go, and froze.

Sam was looking right at him.

Rushing back over to the bed, he picked Sam's hand up again. "Sammy?"

Sam blinked, and a tear rolled down his face.

"Fuck, Sammy, if you can hear me, blink twice, ok?"

Slowly, deliberately, Sam blinked twice.

"Oh my god. Oh my god. Ok. Ok. Hold on, ok? Ok!" Dean grabbed the call button and mashed it frantically.

The beeping of the heart monitor was starting to pick up the pace, and by the time Lisa joined them, followed by Dr. Vinton, Sam was clearly panicking, eyes wide and terrified.

"Sam, it's ok. You've been in an accident, and I know you're freaking out because you can't move. There's a tube down your throat helping you breathe, and I know it's making you feel like you're choking. Everything's going to be ok, I swear." Lisa rubbed his other hand soothingly. "Dean's here, the doctor is checking you over, everything will be ok."

Sam's eyes moved from Lisa's face back to Dean's, still wide and frantic, his pulse racing on the monitor.

"Right here, Sammy. Not going anywhere. I swear."

His eyes rolled from Dean, to Lisa, to the doctor, and around the room. Sam seemed to be looking for someone, and Dean's heart climbed into his throat when he realized his baby brother was looking for his wife - he was looking for Jess.

_Fuck_ , he thought.

Sam's eyelids fluttered and slipped shut. His hand went lax in Dean's.

"It's ok," Dr. Vinton assured Dean. "He's definitely awake, but he'll likely be in and out quite a bit for a while yet. But this is very good. Sam was conscious, and he clearly recognized you. This is very good, Dean."

Lisa wrapped an arm around his waist. "He probably won't wake again until morning, and we're going to be checking on him a lot tonight. You should go home and rest. You know I'll call you the minute something changes, _if_ something changes."

Even though his first instinct was to fight, to argue, insist that he was ok to stay, exhaustion washed over Dean so completely that all he could do was give her a weak nod.

"Ok, good. Go on home. We'll see you tomorrow."

Snagging his jacket off of a chair, Dean sighed and left the room.

He was halfway home before he realized he hadn't said goodbye or goodnight to Sam. Pulling into the driveway, Dean ran a hand over his face. He was so tired, he briefly entertained sleeping right there, in the front seat of his baby.

Eventually, Dean pulled himself from the car and trudged tiredly up the back steps. Missouri was inside, rocking A.J. and feeding him. Dean let himself in, and she looked up and smiled. "Hello, sugar. So here's what Ellen and I worked out. I'm going to spend tomorrow with you, and Ellen will cover Wednesday and part of Thursday, then Andrea will stay with you until Cas gets home on Friday? Sound good?"

Dean dropped onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.

"Dean? Is something wrong? Is Sam ok?"

"I dunno. He woke up. Woke up and looked right at me, then went under again."

"Oh. Well, that's progress, right?"

"I don't know, Missouri. I don't know anything anymore." He leaned his head back against the couch, turning his head to stare at A.J.

His son was blinking his eyes tiredly, fingers in his mouth as he lay against Missouri's chest. He stared at Dean, and Dean stared back.

"Damn, he's cute," Dean murmured, reaching over to smooth his son's downy soft hair. "I think he's starting to look like Cas. Bet his eyes'll turn blue soon."

"Mmm, I see plenty of you in there too, honey." Missouri shifted. "You want him? He's just about to drop off."

Dean nodded, holding out his arms for the baby. He held A.J. close to his chest, pressing soft kisses along his brow. "He smells good."

"Just had a bath. Tell me about Sam. Is this a good thing?"

"It's possible he's coming out of the coma. They're not sure. But he definitely knew I was there. He looked right at me. I think he's trying." He ran his hand over A.J.'s back, smiling when the baby burped. "That's my boy."

"Well, the ladies are in bed and hopefully you won't hear from them again tonight. I'll be back tomorrow, and Benny said to tell you not to worry about work. He's got everything well in hand. Sleep well, sweetie," Missouri said, kissing his forehead.

"Thank you," he replied, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice. "Felt like I was losing my mind earlier and -"

"We're family. Remember that." She let herself out the back door, leaving Dean alone with A.J.

Dean wrapped the little blue blanket around his son, holding him tight as he shut off the lights and made sure all the doors were locked.

He stopped in the girls' room and checked that the monitor was on and carefully dragged the blanket back over Mari. The little girl was sprawled in the middle of her toddler bed, arms and legs akimbo. Felicity was snuggled in A.J.'s crib, tiny butt in the air. He pulled a small blanket over her as well.

Dean stood in the doorway for a moment, watching both of them sleep. He was so tired. It was difficult, to say the least, having three children under three to watch over, but he couldn't love those little girls more if they were his own children.

Besides, he owed Sam.

Trudging up the stairs, Dean pushed open the door to his room and sighed. His room was wrecked. The hamper was overflowing, and the diaper pail was definitely overripe. Ignoring the desperate need to lay down and go to sleep, he carefully placed A.J. in his bassinet and took care of the diapers and the hamper.

By the time he'd done all of that, started a load of laundry, and fixed himself a sandwich, A.J. was fussing for a bottle and it was well after midnight. Dean made a bottle downstairs and took it up to his son. He changed A.J.'s diaper, shucked his jeans for a pair of sweats, and crawled into bed with the baby.

Taking the pillows from Cas's side of the bed, he made a wall along the edge. Dean was fading. He thought he'd be able to stay up just long enough to feed the baby, and that was it. Thankfully, A.J. didn't waste any time with the bottle, sucking it down fairly quickly, and giving Dean two lovely loud burps. Dean set the bottle on the nightstand, made sure his phone was plugged in, laid down beside A.J., and passed out.

* * *

Cas got back to his hotel around nine. He'd gone out to dinner again with John and been had invited back to his place for drinks, but Cas wanted to go back and sleep. They parted ways in Tribeca, and Cas went to his hotel alone. Once there, he took a shower and threw on a pair of sweats.

He texted Dean and got an  _I'll call you later_  in response, but by eleven, when he still hadn't heard from him, Cas just assumed Dean was busy with the girls and A.J. He fell asleep not long after that.

The next morning was very busy, and it was lunchtime before he was able to check his phone. He scrolled through the messages from Dean quickly and found a quiet place to call him.

" _Cas?"_

"He's awake? How is he? Has he said anything? Does he know about Jess?"

" _One thing at a time,"_  Dean replied, exhaustion in his voice.  _"He's awake, but he's still on a ventilator, so no, he hasn't said anything and I can't tell him about Jess until he's a little aware. He's running a fever and they're trying to bring that under control, so even though he's awake, he's not really with it. Drugs and all."_

"Ok. How are you holding up?"

Dean made a sad little sound, and Cas's heart clenched.  _"I'm hanging in there as much as I can. It's been hard. Mari has been testing my limits and she wants her mom. It's been hard, Cas."_

"Is anyone helping you?"

" _Yeah. Missouri's staying with the girls today and is going to help me get some chores done, and then Ellen has tomorrow and Thursday. Andrea will be helping Friday until you get home. Benny said he can come and get you from the airport."_

"Not necessary," Cas said quickly. "It's almost an hour's drive. I'll rent a car, and then you won't have to worry about getting me back up there Sunday night. Just think, Dean, this is the last time. Next week is the last week of filming and then I'll be home all the time."

" _Fuck, Cas, I can't even tell you how amazing that sounds. I think I'm handling this ok at the moment, but once Sam is fully conscious and finds out Jess is gone - and they're still not sure about his back. The swelling has them pretty concerned that he's going to have some kind of serious numbness, if not actual paralysis, not to even mention that he lost his leg -"_ Dean's voice cracked.

"It's going to be ok. We'll move him into our house; turn Ben's room into a hospital room. The girls can continue to use the baby's room, and A.J. can bunk with us indefinitely."

" _And Sam's house, Cas, fuck, I have to get it sold. I can't support his mortgage and ours. Sam's is three times what ours is! And I don't know how much of his medical bills Jess's health insurance will cover, oh crap, Cas, I don't even -"_

"Dean. Calm down. Ok? Can you do that for me?" Cas listened to Dean's shallow, panicked breathing. "You can handle this. We'll deal with the financial stuff later. Deep breaths, ok?"

" _Ok,"_  Dean murmured, his voice small and defeated. Cas could hear the anguish in his words, and pictured his husband, alone in some hospital corridor with tears streaming down his face. It nearly broke his heart to know he couldn't comfort him.

"Just a few more days, baby, and I'll be there. Balth said he's going to push for an early day on Friday. I'll be on the first flight out as soon as we're done. I promise."

" _Ok,"_ Dean said again.

"I love you."

" _Love you too, Cas, I'm just -"_ There was a slight ruckus on Dean's end of the line. _"Fuck."_

"Dean?"

" _Sorry. Code Blue on one of the other patients and I thought they were going in Sam's room. The bottom just dropped out from under me. But it wasn't Sam. Jesus,"_  Dean laughed bitterly,  _"how fucked up am I that I'm glad it was the other guy and not Sammy?"_

"That's not fucked up, Dean. I promise you."

" _Yeah, well -"_

"Dean. It's going to be ok. I'll be home soon. I want you to try and get some really good sleep tonight. I can hear how tired you are."

" _I'll try."_

Balthazar bustled around the corner of the studio wall and pointed to his watch.

"I'm sorry," Cas sighed, "I have to go."

" _It's ok. Call me later?"_

"Yes. I love you, Dean."

But there was only silence. Dean had already hung up. Cas stared at his phone for a minute, then slid it in his pocket. When he looked up again, Naomi was standing there, brushing at a nonexistent piece of lint on her crisp aubergine suit.

"Is everything ok at home?" she asked softly.

"Uh, yes, I uh, my husband's brother has regained consciousness."

"Oh. That's good news, then."

"Yes, but he has a very long road ahead."

"I can imagine." Naomi pursed her lips, and tapped her chin with a manicured finger.

Cas waited silently, wondering what she wanted. They didn't exactly get along, or even communicate outside of necessary conversations for the show.

"Castiel," she began, "I know we haven't been friends and are barely tolerant of each other - but I see the love you have for your husband, and I find I can't be quiet any longer. Please, be careful around John Bartholomew. I don't believe his intentions are pure, and he wants more from you than friendship. What you and Dean have is a rare and wonderful thing, and I don't want to see you lose it. John is the type of person that will get you in the tabloids." She held up a hand to silence Cas's protestations. "No, you don't have to believe me, of course not. But when you get home tonight - Google John Bartholomew. And be careful."

She spun on one elegant heel and strode away from him, leaving Cas to stare after her in bewilderment. When he rejoined his fellow chefs on set, he did notice, for the first time, that the grin John gave him was maybe a little too wide, a little too warm.

Cas felt wrong-footed. He'd never noticed that John was being entirely too attentive until now, and it made his skin crawl. Naomi had never gone out of her way to talk to him before. The fact that even she found it necessary to warn him, and with Balthazar's obvious dislike of the man, made him reconsider what he thought was the beginnings of a deep friendship.

Did John want him as more than a friend?

Cas couldn't figure out why John would have thought he even had a chance with him at all. Every time they were together, all Cas talked about was Dean and A.J. and how much he missed them. What could have ever given John the impression that Cas was offering more?

Unanswered questions poked and prodded at him the rest of the day, and by that evening, Cas was so distracted and uncertain, he felt nauseous, and was pretty sure he was getting a migraine. He didn't care for the extremely disappointed look on John's face when he begged off dinner, either.

Maybe Naomi was right. If she was, Cas was going to have to put a stop to that right away.

Back in his room, the things he found on Google were compelling - and disturbing. John seemed to like seeing himself in the gossip rags, out with a new boy toy every chance he got - but there also seemed to be a discomforting trend towards married or attached men.

After the near miss in LA that had ultimately landed him on Dean's doorstep for the contest, Cas was more aware of the downside of fame. He was more aware of the people waiting in the shadows who seemingly enjoyed destroying reputations.

He didn't want to see his own face on TMZ, thank you very much.

Cas's heart sank. Naomi  _was_  right. And this was a friendship he was going to have to nip in the bud.

After all, Dean was it for him. John couldn't even hope to compare.

* * *

It was like being miles underwater and slowly, painfully surfacing.

The first trickles of awareness were vague; shadows and muted colors just outside his field of vision. The antiseptic smell trickled in next, plucking at memories buried somewhere in his head. Next, the warmth of skin against his own, holding him tight and anchoring him.

Then the pressure in his throat. Pressure, and tightness, triggering the urge to cough and the urge to gag all at the same time.

Sam tried to turn his head away, tried to escape whatever was pushing on his throat - before realizing that the thing was  _in_  his throat. There was a beeping noise in the background, and the more he fought the thing in his throat, the louder and more rapid the beeping got. It added to his agitation and Sam felt the panic turn to anger.

Who the hell thought they had the right to chain him up and hold him down?!

"Sammy! Sammy, calm down!" Dean's voice filtered in from somewhere, the grip on his hand squeezing reassuringly. "Open your eyes. C'mon, just like you did before. Open your eyes and look at me!"

Sam told his eyelids to open, demanding obedience until they finally complied.

The first thing he saw was white - a long stretch of never ending white. Then green, as Dean stared down at him with wide eyes.

"There you are," his brother said softly.

Ok, if Dean was there, nothing could be  _that_  wrong. The pressure in his throat must be necessary, and he worked hard to calm down, relax, and stop fighting the soft whooshes of air being forced into his lungs. The incessant beeping in the background calmed as he did.

Another face swam into view. This one was pretty, with long dark hair pulled into a ponytail, and soft pink scrubs that complimented her warm skin nicely.

_Lisa. Hospital then. I'm in a hospital._

The whooshing and the pressure in his throat made sense - if he was in the hospital, that was probably a ventilator tube in his throat. Which raised yet another question - what the hell had happened to him?

"Hi Sam," Lisa said with sweet smile. "We've all missed your pretty eyes. I'm going to check a few things, like your temperature and blood pressure, and Dr. Vinton's going to come look you over as well. We'd love to take that tube out of your throat, but your lungs aren't cooperating, so it may need to stay in a bit yet, ok? Just blink once if you understand."

Sam made his lids perform one deliberate blink.

"Ok, great." Lisa read the display on the thermometer and frowned. "You're still a little warm buddy, but your blood pressure looks much better." Sam could hear velcro separating as she removed the cuff. Lisa raised her head and smiled across the bed. "I'll give you guys a bit before I send Doc in."

"Thanks," Dean murmured. With a surprising amount of effort, Sam rolled his head just enough to see Dean. "Hey. Nice to see you. You've been giving me pretty regular heart attacks here lately," he smiled.

There were deep shadows under Dean's eyes, a pretty clear sign he hadn't been getting enough sleep. Sam wanted to ask him why. He didn't know how to communicate that question with just his eyes.

"Think I can call you Sleeping Beauty now?" Dean smiled again, but it was so forced, Sam could see right through it.

Something was wrong. Something he couldn't quite grab onto with his brain.

Dean raised his other hand and ran his fingers through Sam's hair, pushing a few strands out of his face. "Sure got the hair for it," he said softly.

With an absolutely monumental effort, Sam attempted to raise his left arm to flip Dean the bird. Something was holding it down against the mattress, and he struggled to see what it was, causing the stupid beeping to accelerate again.

"Hey, hey, hey, no. Calm down. Don't get worked up. Whatever it was, it can wait. Ok? It can wait."

The frustration of being chained to the bed with no clue why was building in Sam, and he felt his eyes fill with tears. A few slowly rolled down his cheek.

"Hey, it's ok. Sammy, I know you're upset and you don't know what's going on, but it's ok. You were hurt. An accident. You're doing so much better now, but you're not there yet. Your lungs are still healing. You've got a big cast on your left arm. Your ribs are taped. You've had a couple of surgeries. There's a reason you can't move. You need to stay still and let your body heal. Ok? Can you blink for me, let me know you understand?"

Again, Sam forced his eyelids to deliberately blink, and Dean's whole body seemed to relax.

"Ok, that's good. That's very good." Dean sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Sam's IV-laden hand into his. "You scared me this week. I thought I was going to lose you."

Greyness was starting to creep into the edges of his vision, and Sam was aware he was beginning to lose consciousness again - but he didn't care. His thoughts started to tumble in his head, detaching and creating odd little threads of thought that didn't make much sense.

Dean was rambling in the background, talking about people he didn't know; people named Cas, and A.J, Mari, and Felicity. None of those names made sense to him. He was drifting, but trying very hard to stay awake. Dean was telling him important things, and it would be rude not to pay attention.

"It's ok, Sammy," Dean said soothingly. "You can go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake." His fingers were brushing over Sam's hand in soothing patterns, and the hypnotic sensation was heightened by Dean's rough voice singing.

" _Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better."_

Sam let his eyes slip shut.

" _Hey Jude, don't be afraid. You were made to go out and get her. The minute you let her under your skin, then you begin to make it better."_

He slipped back under the waves, Dean's voice carrying through the water, and he knew when he resurfaced, Dean would be there to pull him back up. As Sam drifted off, one last thought slipped through his mind like a strand of delicate gossamer.

_Where's Jess?_

* * *

It was Friday before Dr. Vinton declared that Sam could be weaned slightly off the mild sedatives and taken off the ventilator. Dean was sitting quietly in his ICU room, waiting for him to wake. A shuffle of footsteps in the hall, a flash of tan trenchcoat, and Dean found himself wrapped tightly in Cas's arms.

"Balth is a pushy diva and got us done by nine. So here I am, baby."

"Oh shit, Cas," Dean sagged into his embrace. "Oh shit. You're here." He sniffled loudly.

"Yes, I am."

"Shit, Cas," Dean muttered into his neck. "Couldn't have picked a better time. They're decreasing his sedative and as soon as he wakes up, they're going to pull the vent tube. Been silently freaking out because I know what his first question is going to be, and I don't know how's he's going to handle it. I'm worried."

"I know, but I'm here, and we'll handle this. Ok?"

Dean nodded, letting his arms slip down to rest around Cas's waist. His husband felt so good, strong and sure, and Dean never felt safer than the times he was in Cas's arms.

"Anything new at home?" Cas asked, pulling Dean down to sit beside him.

"No, not really. It's been a long week." Dean took Cas's hand, weaving their fingers together. "Mari is a challenge. She's aware that Jess is gone and not happy about it. She's struggling with the loss and is acting out. Sometimes, it's really hard to be patient with her."

"Where are the kids now?"

"A.J. is with Missouri, Andrea has Mari and Felicity."

Cas nodded before sitting up straighter. "I think Sam's waking up."

Dean followed Cas's eyes to Sam's still form, and sure enough, he was blinking slowly, staring at the ceiling above.

"Sammy?" Dean stood and crossed the room, reaching for Sam's right hand. "Hey there. You waking up?" Dean reached for the call button with his other hand, smiling when Sam's eyes found his. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

"Late afternoon, actually," Cas chuckled, resting his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Good to see you awake, Sam."

Sam stared blankly at Cas, almost as if he didn't recognize him. That concerned Dean, but before he could get too worked up, Lisa and Dr. Vinton were joining them.

Lisa gave Cas a hug. "Good to see you, buddy."

"Good to be here, believe me."

"Ok, Sam, the ventilator is telling me that you're breathing on your own, so we're going to get this tube out. Does that sound good?"

Sam made a movement that might have been a nod, and Dr. Vinton took it as an affirmative. "Good. Now, when I tell you to, I want you to try and cough. It will help me get the tube out of your throat. This isn't going to be comfortable, but it should be over quickly."

Lisa helped the doctor disconnect all of the tubes and shut off the machine. She carefully peeled away the medical tape surrounding the short tube in Sam's mouth. "Ok, honey, we're going to pull this out. Blink twice for me if you're ready." Sam blinked. "Alright. On the count of the three, take a deep breath and cough. One, two, three."

Sam coughed, and Dr. Vinton pulled the tube in one smooth motion.

"There you go, Sammy. Nice to see you," Dean smiled down at his brother.

"Ummgghh."

"Nope. Don't you dare try to talk. Give it an hour or so, let your throat chill out. I'm going to get Dean some ice chips to give you. Ok?" Lisa patted Sam's shoulder.

Sam sighed loudly.

"Ah, there's the Sam we all know and love," Cas chuckled.

"Ok, looking good, boys. Slow and steady, Sam. Take the ice Dean gives you, and I'll come back in a while and check on you. Rest up, buddy. You did good."

Dean watched Dr. Vinton walk out of the room, barely resisting the urge to scream  _I told you so_ to his back. Thank whoever the hell was listening upstairs that he hadn't listened when the doc told him to shut Sam's machines off.

His brother's eyes were searching the room, rolling from one wall to the other, looking for something - or someone. Dean's heart sank.

Sam wanted Jess. That much was obvious. The way that he was staring at Cas while he talked to Lisa was bothering him, too. It was clear, painfully clear, that Sam didn't recognize Cas. His eyes were narrowed suspiciously, an expression that would have been comical if not for the implication.

If Sam didn't remember Cas, then he likely wouldn't remember his own daughters.

Lisa left the room to get Sam's ice, and Cas leaned over to kiss Dean's cheek. "Going to go get you a coffee and a sandwich. Ham and cheese ok?"

"Yeah, and some Cheetos. Pie if they have it."

"Of course. Back in a minute." Cas tossed his trench over a chair and left the room.

Dean looked back down at Sam's wide eyes. "What?"

Sam silently said "who?"

"Cas? That's my husband. We've been married for a while now. Two years. You should remember. You were my best man, after all. Don't worry," Dean soothed, seeing Sam's upset expression, "probably just the drugs. You're on a lot of them." He hoped to hell that's all it was.

"Not gay," was the next silent statement.

"Nope. Bisexual. You and Adam helped me figure that out. And Cas, of course."

Sam rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at Dean.

"Happy?"

"Like you wouldn't believe, Sammy."

Sam smiled at that.

Lisa bustled back in, a large cup in hand. She handed Dean the cup and a spoon. "A little at a time please. Sam, you need to let them melt in your mouth. Don't try to chew them, or swallow them whole. Ok?" Sam nodded. "Let's sit you up a bit." The bed creaked as she pushed the button to lift the head to a slight angle. "Not too much, ok?" she smiled.

"Alright, bro, how 'bout some tasty Grade A ice chips?" Dean scooped a few onto the spoon and held it to Sam's mouth.

He rolled his eyes, but accepted them obediently. Sam sucked down ice chips and Dean kept them coming. Dean was handing him another spoonful when he noticed Sam's face had lost what little color it had left.

"Sam?"

Dean followed his brother's eyes, heart dropping to his toes when he realized Sam was staring at the blank space where his left leg should be. He looked back at Dean, eyes wide and terrified. The beeping monitor behind them started accelerating rapidly.

"Leg?" Sam asked silently, his lips forming the voiceless words. "Where is my leg? What happened?"

Setting the ice down, Dean almost jumped out of his skin when Sam's right hand grabbed his arm in a surprisingly strong grip.

"Sammy, calm down. I need you to calm down."

"Where is my leg?!" he asked again.

"You were in an accident. Your leg was - damaged. They tried, Sam, they really did."

"Where's Jess?" Sam asked hoarsely. "Where's my wife?"

Dean froze.

"No. No, you don't. No, Dean. Where's my wife?"

"Sammy, you gotta stop talking."

"Where's my wife?!" Sam yelled, the monitor beeping madly in the background.

"God, Sam." Dean shook his head, staring down at his hands. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm so sorry."

"No. No. Dean," Sam was back to whispers, his chin trembling, "no. Anything but that. Tell me - tell me you're kidding. It's not a nice joke, but I'll forgive you. Just - tell me you're kidding, Dean. Please. Please."

"I wish I was, Sam."

Sam stared, shocked into silence.

"God, no!" he wailed, "No. Not Jess! No, fuck, oh god!" Sam's face crumpled, tears flooded his cheeks, and the heart monitor took off at a ridiculously rapid pace. Cas, Dr. Vinton, and Lisa all seemed to appear at the same time.

Several other nurses joined them, and as they tended to Sam, Cas pulled Dean out of the chair and out of the room, dragging him down the hall to the waiting room.

Dean wondered when he'd starting sobbing.

"It's ok, Dean, it's ok," Cas soothed, rocking him in his arms. "I'm here. We can handle this. It's going to be ok."

He wanted to believe Cas. He wanted to believe that in time, everything would be ok. But it wouldn't be ok, not for Sam, not for Mari, not for Felicity. Jess was gone, and no one could bring her back.

It  _wasn't_ going to be ok.

  
  



	12. Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am exhausted and this is extremely unbetaed.

By Sunday afternoon, Sam had reached a state of numb acceptance. Part of him was still waiting to wake up at home in his and Jess's big bed. Part of him was still waiting for her to sit up, giggle, push a strand of blonde hair out of her face and tell him it was just a nightmare.

_Every_  part of him wanted his life back.

At night, he laid awake in his bed, staring at the hospital room ceiling. He wondered why they used those acoustic tiles in an ICU. Surely those things held on to germs and stuff. Downright unsanitary. A lawsuit waiting to happen. He wondered about what would happen now that he was fully dependent on Dean. He wondered if he'd missed Jess's funeral. Sam hadn't asked Dean about that yet.

Things he did know: he'd been out for almost a week. His left leg was gone, just above the knee, which would make it harder to use a prosthesis. He couldn't feel his toes. Dr. Vinton had been in that morning, poking and prodding below his waist. Sam hadn't felt a damn thing.

He knew that there was a chance his left arm would never be the same. His chest hurt. Really, his whole body hurt. There were good drugs being pumped into him, but they only numbed some of the pain, not all of it.

He knew he was running a fever. At times, it would spike, and the hallucinations would come. Vibrant, terrifying images. Men with yellow eyes, blood dripping down walls, his father tearing Dean to shreds and then turning on him. He dreamt of dying over and over again, screams of terror in his ears as others died around him. The fever had the staff and Dean worried. They couldn't find a source, and the gallons of antibiotics they were dumping into him had no effect.

The nurses had started bringing him light food; broth, jello, pudding, stuff that he could eat easily. He was encouraged to eat, the staff doing their best to convince him nutrition could help his body fight the mysterious fever. Sam didn't care. Generally, the food went back untouched. The NG tube stayed in his nose.

Dean was there as much as possible, that damn haunted look Sam had come to hate always present. He knew his brother was blaming himself for all of this, and while Sam knew it wasn't Dean's fault in any possible way, he didn't bother to disabuse him of the idea.

After all, why should he be the only one suffering?

Saturday, Dean had brought two little girls to the room. The oldest was the spitting image of Jess; the youngest, a baby, looked a lot like him. The oldest called him Daddy and gave him a careful hug. Sam tried to play along, but these children were strangers to him. Just like the blue eyed man Dean kept insisting was his  _husband_.

Nothing made sense.

"Sam?" Ellen appeared in his doorway, and he turned his head away. He couldn't understand why the staff seemed determined to ignore his _no visitors_  request.

"Honey, they told me you're not eating. I brought you some of my homemade chicken noodle. Does that sound good?"

Sam didn't answer. He kept his head turned towards the window, watching as the wind blew leaves past the glass.

"Alright, I get it. The rug got yanked out from under you and you're pissed. Fair enough. But you need to eat, and if you won't eat hospital food -"

"Go away."

Ellen huffed. "No."

There was a clunk on his bedside table, and the rustle of a bag. A delicious aroma filled the room, as Ellen fussed with unknown objects out of his field of vision.

"You've got Dean so worked up, we had to practically chain him to his bed to get him to stay home and rest. Look, I get it, you're angry. You have absolutely every reason to be angry. But you have no right to act like an ass to your brother. You hear me, Sam Winchester?"

When he didn't answer, she huffed again. "I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. But you gotta go a little easier on him. He's raising his own son, and taking care of your two, all while trying to deal with selling your house and -"

"Selling my house?" Sam whipped his head back towards Ellen. "Why would he do that?"

Ellen stood up straight, putting both hands on her hips. "Because you are almost a quarter mil in debt and something's gotta give."

"A quarter million? God, are you sure?"

"Yes, honey. You were planning on selling before the accident. Dean's just trying to get the stuff done you'd already planned on."

"Why was I so far in debt?" Sam asked, horrified.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Sam scratched at his brain, trying to pull up something, anything. "Uh, Jess and I - we went to Disney for our anniversary."

"Sweetie, that was almost four years ago. You've had two daughters since then, and Dean's gotten married and had another son."

"Was I still working for Adler?"

"Yes."

"I'm so confused, Ellen." While they were talking, Ellen had filled a spoon with some soup, and Sam was so distracted, he obediently opened his mouth and let her feed him.

"I know. It's horrible, what's happened. You were close to making partner. Adler and the other partners expected a certain lifestyle from you. So you'd gone pretty far into debt trying to live up to their standards, hoping that when you made partner, you'd be able to do more pro bono work."

"That makes sense," Sam said in between bites. "That's what I always wanted to do. I wanted to help kids and domestic violence victims."

"Right," Ellen smiled, patting his shoulder. "You've always wanted to care for people less fortunate." Her face darkened. "But Mr. Adler was all about money, and how much you could make for him. He gave you a case you couldn't hope to win -"

"And when I lost, he canned me."

"You remember?"

"No. I just know how he is," Sam said bitterly.

"Anyway, you were going to help Dean at the shop, with accounting and contracts. Then the accident happened."

"And now Jess is gone and I can't even remember my own daughters." He pushed away the bedside tray with his right hand. "No more, Ellen. I feel like I'm going to throw up."

"You ate most of it. Hopefully it'll stay down." Ellen packed away the meal, pulled some knitting out of another bag and sat it on the end of Sam's bed. She pulled a chair closer and settled in.

"Since when do you knit?"

"I taught myself when Jess announced she was pregnant with Mari."

"Mari. For my mom?"

"Mmhmm."

"What are you making?" The thing in her hands was soft yellow, pale blue, and light orange.

"It's a little blanket for A.J."

"A.J.?"

"Dean and Cas's boy. Andrew Joseph. Andrew for the friend Dean lost in Afghanistan, and Joseph for Jo, since she was their surrogate."

"Wow."

Ellen set the knitting on her lap and looked at Sam. Her eyes were kind, but a fire of determination burned inside. "You will remember, Sam. You will. You're not going to forget your own daughters."

To his horror, Sam felt his eyes burn with tears, and he blinked furiously, trying to clear them away. "How can you be sure?" he asked hoarsely.

"Because you love both of them with everything in you. You will remember. I have faith." She made no mention of the tears, and satisfied with her declaration, turned her attention back to the knitting.

Sam hoped to hell she was right.

* * *

"Are you going to be alright?"

Cas watched Dean flit around the living room, scooping up anything out of place. He had a slightly manic air about him.

"I'll have to be. You've got to go back, right? Right."

"Dean -"

"No, Cas, I'll be fine. Ok? Fine." Dean shoved a pile of clothes into a laundry basket and hauled them down the stairs.

The washer clicked on and Cas sighed. Dean was always so adept at avoiding the issue.

A.J. cooed in his swing and Cas smiled. He crossed the living room and shut the swing off, undid the straps and lifted his son into his arms.

"Hello there, my little friend."

The baby's lips twitched in the imitation of a smile.

"Are you hungry? Papa will get you a bottle."

Cas went to the kitchen, A.J. snuggled tight against him. He made a bottle one-handed, impressed with his own skill, and settled back on the couch. A.J.'s diaper was changed and an ounce of formula already gone by the time Dean returned from the basement.

Dean dropped to the couch, leaned into Cas, and sighed. "This is almost over. Right? There's not going to be some weird extension keeping you there beyond next week?"

"No. We're done on Friday. Then I am coming home and not going back. I promise. I'm tired of missing you two."

"Good." Dean stayed like that, his head on Cas's shoulder, and his breathing slowly evened out as he fell asleep.

Cas had an hour left before he had to go to the airport, and there were worse ways to spend it than on the couch, A.J. snuggly and dozing in his arms, and Dean sound asleep on his shoulder, drooling on his shirt.

One more week, and all of this was done. He could be here all the time, helping Dean with Sam's girls, taking care of his son, and taking care of Dean.

"Unca Cas? I hungee." A sleepy eyed Mari wandered into the living room, blonde curls mussed and sticking up all over the place.

"Ok, my sweet. Let me move Uncle Dean and put A.J. down, and I'll get you something. Sound good?"

She nodded and settled down on the floor, wrapping her  _Frozen_  blanket around her shoulders. Cas carefully shifted Dean off his shoulder and onto a pillow, stood, and put A.J. in the pack and play. He moved Dean's legs onto the couch and pulled his KU blanket over him.

He stood there a moment, watching Dean sleep. He'd always enjoyed watching Dean sleep, loving the peaceful, unlined expression on his face.

"Hungee," Mari whispered behind him.

"Ok, sweetie," he said, reaching down to scoop her up. "What would you like?"

"Gilled chee and fissies."

"Grilled cheese and fishies. I can do that."

He made the food in no time, and sat Mari at the table. They ate quietly, Cas lost in his thoughts. He didn't want to leave them. Cas knew Dean needed him here, and going back to New York held zero appeal.

"Unca Cas?" Mari asked, startling him out of his reverie.

"Yes, little one?"

"Daddy forgot me."

"Oh, sweetie," Cas soothed, reaching for her little hand.

"He losted Mommy and he losted me. I want Daddy and Mommy back." Her little chin trembled, and two big tears formed in bright blue eyes.

"I know. I know you want them back. I think Daddy will remember soon."

"Mommy in heaven foreber?"

"Yes," Cas answered sadly.

"Mommy neber coming back?"

"No, honey, she's not."

Mari nodded, and the tears rolled down her face. "I miss Mommy."

"We all do, sweetie, we all do."

* * *

Back in New York the next day, Cas found it hard to concentrate on the matter at hand. John was being his usual, overly solicitous self, annoying Cas with his banter. Lunch came and Balthazar dragged him from the room.

"Are you alright?"

"It's that obvious?"

"Probably not to anyone else. But I've know you a long time, Cassie."

Cas sighed. "I don't want to be here."

"I know. And it's almost over. I swear, I won't let them try to talk you into any other shows, other than your own, of course." Balth frowned. "I shouldn't have convinced you to do this one."

"No, it's ok. And as it turns out, we may need the money from this project sooner rather than later."

"Oh?"

"Sam's debts are...extensive. Jess did have a decent life insurance policy that will help with a lot of it. But Sam's medical bills are going to be interesting. I've read accounts of disabled people with good insurance having their claims denied. I forsee a lot of out of pocket expenses. And while Dean and I are both fairly wealthy, nothing would eat that up faster than medical bills."

"Do you need me to find another assignment?"

"Possibly. But it would need to be close to home and worth my time."

"Alright. Let's grab some lunch, shall we?"

"I'm not hungry. I need to call Dean."

Balthazar nodded. "By the by, what were you and Naomi discussing the other day? I kept meaning to ask."

"She warned me away from John. I went home that night and looked him up online. Her advice was sound."

"Good. I don't trust him and we don't need another LA incident. Although, you did exhibit much better taste in LA."

"That situation netted me Dean Winchester. It was worth it in the end."

"Ah yes, the contest you wanted nothing to do with." Balth winked. "Someday you'll learn to trust me completely, Cassie!" he called, as he left the room.

Cas smiled. He walked down the hall to his dressing room and called Dean.

* * *

The week dragged on so slowly, Cas was sure he'd go insane by the end of it. Finally, Friday arrived and they crowned their winner. As John had predicted early on, Marcus won, impressing all three judges with his final dishes, served in the mock restaurant setting. He'd done very well and deserved to win.

Once filming was complete, hours were spent taking photos and recording commercials for the network. By the time all of that was over, it was well after nine, and Cas was exhausted, irritable, and incredibly frustrated.

He let the others convince him to go out for dinner and champagne. Balth and John kept buying round after round, and it wasn't long before Naomi had disappeared and only John, Cas, and Balthazar were left.

They got cabs and moved to a Tribeca bar, where Balthazar promptly disappeared with a redhead and her lovely blonde friend. John ordered a round of drinks for him and Cas, and they sat and laughed about several of the less successful contestants.

"This is fun!" John said at one point, grinning over the rim of his glass.

"Yes," Cas agreed, his head fuzzy. "I think I need to go home." He stood, but the room spun around and he nearly lost his balance.

"Whoa there, cowboy. You're really drunk. Let's get you a cab."

"Cab. Cab is good. Yes, get me a cab. Get me a cab, John."

"Ok, Cas. C'mon." He led Cas out of the bar.

Somehow, Cas ended up in a cab with John, and at John's apartment building.

"This isn't home," he complained, turning to get back into the cab. "I'm going home." He stumbled, almost face-planted, but John grabbed his arm. The cab drove away, and Cas watched it go.

He wanted - _needed_ \- to be in that cab.

"Cas, you're really gone, and it's probably not safe for you to go home alone. Come on. Come upstairs and I'll make you some coffee. Ok?"

That sounded like a good idea. "You're a lovely person, John."

"Why, thank you," John grinned. He extended an arm. "Let's go up."

Cas nodded, and followed John as he led him to the door. Alarm bells were ringing, as John possessively slipped his arm around Cas's waist. He stopped walking, wondering why he felt so apprehensive.

Something was wrong here. He was sure of it. Just, for the life of him, Cas couldn't grasp onto the reason.

"You're lovely, you know that?" John said softly. He caught Cas's chin in his hand, tilting his face up. "You have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen, and you're so kind, so gorgeous…"

And then John was kissing him. His lips pressed against Cas's unmoving lips, and it was the stab of his tongue demanding entrance that finally snapped Cas out of it.

He reared back. "What the fuck?"

"Seriously, Cas? Like you didn't know that's where this was going?" John smiled, an attempt at sweetness, but to Cas, it was leering, ugly.

"How could you in a million years think I'd be interested in you when I have someone like Dean waiting for me?"

John chuckled. "You're drunk. C'mon upstairs and chill out. Ok?" He wrapped a proprietary arm around Cas, who promptly shoved it off.

"As much as I talk about my son, about my life in Kansas, as much as I talk about, call, and text Dean, how could you even think I was interested in you?" Cas asked again. He shook his head, the movement making the world spin dizzily.

Shit. How much had he had? Cas didn't think he'd had  _that_  much.

"Ok, fine, but let's just get you upstairs."

"No."

"Cas -" John grabbed his hand.

"No!" Cas yanked his hand back. "You are nothing to me. Dean is my whole world. How could you even think you'd have a chance in hell against him?"

"Please. That whiny little bastard who calls you every time he's got the smallest problem? You deserve someone strong, sophisticated. Not some weakass, sorry little Kansas farmboy."

Cas saw red. He didn't remember punching John, but the other man was on the ground, staring up at him with blood spurting between his fingers.

"That 'farmboy'? He's three times the man you'll ever be." Cas spun on his heel, hailed a cab, and climbed inside. He leaned back against the seat as the driver pulled away from the curb.

"Where to?"

Cas's head was still so fuzzy, he was concerned John might have drugged him, so he gave the driver directions to Gabe and Kali's loft. He was barely conscious by the time he arrived, dragging himself to the elevator. Cas almost lost the contents of his stomach getting out of the car, and he pressed the buzzer next to the door, leaning against the wall next to it.

"Where the hell have you been?" Gabe demanded when he yanked the door open. "Dean, me, everyone's been calling you for hours!"

Looking through his pockets, Cas realized he didn't have his phone. "Oh. I've lost my phone." He stumbled through Gabe's doorway, almost falling. Gabe caught him.

"Cas, what's going on? Sam's sick, some kind of infection. It's bad, and Dean's been trying to find you."

"Oh, no. Oh, that's - that's – John Bartholomew kissed me and I punched him."

"What?!"

Cas's head spun. "I think I've been roofied," he told Gabe dazedly, then promptly barfed on his brother' shoes.

Everything went black after that.

* * *

_I have him. Someone got him drunk or drugged him, not sure, but I'm going to get him cleaned up and on the next plane._

Dean stared at the message in bewilderment.

_Drugged?!_

_I'm not sure. We're getting him checked out. He barfed on a very expensive rug._

_Because that's what's important._

_Give me a break, Deano. Doing best I can here._

_Ok. Thanks Gabe. Keep me posted._

_Will do._

Dean sighed, sliding the phone back into his pocket. He ran a hand down his face and studied his brother.

Sam's hair was wet. His skin was covered in sweat. He was shaking, tremors running through his arms and legs. Fever. Infection. And the antibiotics were doing nothing.

Dean was terrified.

It was something in his blood. Even the name sounded discouraging -  _sepsis_. The docs had already told him this infection could easily kill Sam. His kidneys were shutting down, and Dr. Vinton had mentioned dialysis earlier in the day.

Dean had been at the hospital all day, and as night fell and Cas didn't answer his phone, his fear for Sam was compounded by his worry over Cas. All he wanted was for someone to stop the merry-go-round and let him the hell off.

Dozing off and on in a chair by Sam's bed, Dean spent the night trying to keep calm. It wasn't easy. Any time a monitor beeped, or the door opened, or Sam made any kind of noise, Dean would startle awake, heart pounding.

"You should try to go home," Ava, the night nurse, admonished him around four a.m. "You know we'd call you in a second if anything changed."

Dean rubbed his tired eyes. "Yeah, I know. But if he wakes up - he gets so confused, and I don't want -" He blinked. "You guys are probably getting tired of me being in here. Right? That's the real problem, isn't it?"

"No. It's not that at all. We all really like you, Dean. Lisa is our friend, and most of us were here with you last year. You were so sick, and those first few days, everyone was so worried. Lisa, Cas, Sam. You had them all so scared. And a big part of how you got so sick was because you weren't taking care of yourself, and you weren't eating and resting. That's why we're worried now. Tell me honestly, when's the last time you ate?"

"Uh -"

"Right. And got a good night's sleep?"

"Ava, I have a newborn. Sleep is relevant."

"That's another thing. You have a child. Shouldn't you be home with him?"

"Yeah. I guess I should. Ok, fine, I'll go."

"It's not a punishment, I swear."

He nodded and pulled himself from the chair.

Ava finished taking Sam's vitals while Dean put his jacket on. "Fever still stupid high?"

Her sad eyes told him what he needed to know and Dean sighed. She finished his chart, and left the room.

"If you do something stupid overnight, I'm gonna break your dumb ass  _Future Lawyer_  trophy from elementary school. You know the one. You hide it on the mantle behind the big picture of all of us? Yeah. That one. Swear to god, I'll strap to the bumper of my baby and take it for a ride down I-70. I mean it." Sam didn't so much as twitch, and Dean's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Alright, see you in the morning, Sammy. Well, later in the morning. Gonna get a shower and some clean clothes. I'll be back in a bit."

Dean kissed Sam's sweaty forehead, as had become custom, and left the hospital.

Just after five a.m. Dean knocked on Missouri's door. She answered in a bathroom, glaring at him. "Mm, mm, mm. Dean Winchester. Go home and sleep."

"But I was gonna get the bab-"

"I'm not handing a peacefully sleeping child over to his smelly zombie father. Shower, food, bed. In that order. If I see you before noon, I'm calling the cops!" She slammed the door in his face.

Dean stared dumbstruck at her door for a solid three minutes, waiting for her to open it again and give him the baby. He gave up and went home, dragged his ass through a halfhearted shower and collapsed on the bed.

He woke to bright sunlight, and a fingers trailing along his cheek.

"Hello, Dean."

"Cas!" Dean threw himself into Cas's waiting arms. He pulled back after a moment to look at him.

"You look like hell, baby."

"You too," Dean murmured, tracing his fingers along the bags under Cas's eyes.

"I had a bad night. And I don't want to, but I need to tell you about it."

"Gabe said you got -"

"Roofied. By someone I trusted."

"Who?"

Cas frowned, and turned from Dean. He stood, crossing the room to kick his shoes into the closet. "John. I thought we were friends, and apparently he wanted more. He kissed me. I punched him."

"Whoa."

Shoulders slumping, Cas pressed his forehead against the wall. "He kept trying to convince me to come upstairs to his apartment."

Slipping out of bed, Dean crossed the room, wrapping his arms tight around Cas's waist. "What are going to do? Are you going to press charges?"

"Can't prove it was him. We were in a crowded bar -" Cas sighed, letting his head loll back on Dean's shoulder. "I feel so stupid, Dean. But you have to know. I would never, ever cheat on you. There's no one for me but you."

"I know, Cas," Dean whispered, kissing Cas's neck. "Turn around."

Cas complied, and Dean pulled him close. "It's ok. I know who you come home to. I know who you belong to. John can't have you - because you are  _mine_." His voice had dropped, something dark and possessive, and he could see arousal bleeding into Cas's eyes.

"Yours," he agreed, voice gravel deep.

"Mine." Dean nipped at the bolt of Cas's chin, slipping his hands down into Cas's jeans.

"Yours," Cas rumbled, sliding his own hands into Dean's worn boxers. "All yours," whispered against Dean's lips.

The first kiss was rough, and a clash of teeth hurt a bit, but didn't stop what was happening. Dean shoved Cas against the wall, pushing his knee between Cas's thighs as his fingers worked his belt buckle. "Mine," he growled, biting Cas's bottom lip.

He yanked the belt from jeans, tossed it aside. Cas tugged Dean's tee up and away, tossing it somewhere, and Dean ripped open Cas's white dress shirt, buttons flying. "Mine," he growled again.

Cas put both hands on Dean's chest and shoved him back, his eyes glittering dark and dangerous.

"Then claim me."

Needing no further instruction, Dean yanked the rest of Cas's clothing away and shoved him towards the bed. He followed him, locking their lips together as he pushed Cas backwards, toppling them both onto the mattress.

Cas groaned and shoved his hips upward, searching for friction. Digging blindly through the nightstand, Dean found a bottle of lube. He prepped Cas roughly, probably not enough, but they were both so gone, and he wanted inside him  _now_.

"Fuck, Dean, do it. Fuck me."

Grabbing Cas by the arm, he manhandled him until Cas was straddling his hips, pulling him down onto his dick so roughly, Dean had to breathe deep and fight the urge to come instantly. He didn't give Cas time to adjust, just thrust roughly, slamming his hips up into Cas's ass.

Cas reached forward, wrapped his fingers around the closest post of their bed, desperately hanging on for the ride. Deciding he want to see Cas writhe beneath him, Dean shifted their positions, putting Cas on his back and both of his legs over his own shoulders.

He fucked hard into Cas, his husband desperately gasping "claim me, claim me", with every thrust. Cas dragged nails down his back and Dean could feel blood being drawn to the surface, felt the warmth of it drip down his spine.

Dean sucked in a breath, wondering when he had started chanting "mine, mine, mine," against Cas's open mouth. His thrusts grew harder, more erratic and primal. Dean dropped his head to Cas's neck, baring his teeth and biting over the rapid pulse there.

Cas came, a drawn out "Dean!" from his raw, hoarse voice, the bite pushing him over the edge untouched. Come splashed up over his abs and Dean dragged a finger through it, sucking it into his mouth.

"Mine," he growled, leaning forward again to lick at the bite mark. He slammed into Cas's hips twice more, screaming into Cas's shoulder as he came.

As fast as it had started, it was over, and Dean was crying.

"Hey. Hey, c'mon. It's ok, baby, I swear."

"He can't have you!"

"No, I don't want him. I want you, Dean. I only want you."

"I'm so tired of losing everyone. Why can't the world just leave me the fuck alone for a while? Haven't I served my fucking time? Why do I have to be the world's longest running joke?"

"Dean, baby, shh. It's ok, it's ok. It's only eight in the morning. You're tired, and you need to sleep. Just sleep, baby, it's ok." Cas wrapped his arms tight around Dean, holding him close and rocking him.

Sleep came fast this time, pure exhaustion taking him.

"He can't have you," Dean whispered as the world faded.

"No, he can't. Yours."

"Mine."

  
  



	13. Remembrance

Dean woke to soft puffs of breath against his neck. Cas's arm was an iron bar around his waist, and he welcomed it wholeheartedly.

Cas was home.

Cas was home, and whatever else life decided to be a bitch and throw at them, they could handle it. Together.

"Are you ok?" Cas asked softly.

"Yes. What time is it?"

"After four. I'm still tired."

"Me, too. But I should probably get up and go get A.J., because Missouri's had him since yesterday morning."

"I doubt she cares. Where are the girls?"

"Against my better judgement, they're with the Moores."

"Huh."

"I'm not too worried. Sam's awake, and if they take them out of state, it won't look good for them legally. But I should at least go get the baby. Or go see Sam. Shit, I don't know what to do."

"How about you roll over?"

Dean shifted in the bed until he was facing Cas, who cupped his chin in his hand and pulled Dean into a kiss. He pushed Dean backwards, maneuvering him until he was on his back. Their lips stayed in contact the entire time.

Cas brought their groins together, and Dean moaned into the kiss as Cas's hardness brushed against his own.

"Cas -"

"Ssh," Cas admonished, kissing him silent. He reached between them, propping himself up on one arm, and wrapped his other hand around both of them. "Let go, baby. Relax. I'm going to make you feel so good."

Cas stroked them both together, adding a little twist with his wrist. He changed positions quickly, sliding lithely down Dean's body, and Dean's back arched as Cas swallowed him down. His hands tangled in Cas's dark hair, and he gasped as he felt his dick hit the back of Cas's throat. Two fingers brushed across his entrance, and Dean's hips bucked.

"Shit, this is gonna be over pretty fast," he wheezed, pleasure already building against his spine. Cas ignored him, sucking harder, a slick finger slipping just inside, and Dean felt the orgasm start to unfurl in his belly. "Cas -" he moaned in warning.

His husband's hand grabbed the base of his cock, squeezing hard to stop the impending orgasm. Dean half-sobbed, hips thrusting uselessly into the unyielding grasp of Cas's fist.

"That was cruel," he whined, glaring down at Cas.

"Mmm, I'll get you there. I just need to return the favor from this morning." Cas climbed back up Dean's body, reaching for the bottle of lube they'd left under the pillow. "I know you love being fucked. I know you like it better than anything."

Dean blushed furiously.

"I know you want it so bad right now. I can see it in your eyes. You want to get fucked so bad, don't you? Don't you, baby?"

He made a choked off noise, and turned his head to the side, nodding, his cheeks on fire, but Dean was so turned on that it was bordering on painful.

"Spread your pretty legs," Cas ordered, voice low and dark.

Obeying immediately, Dean inhaled sharply when he felt Cas nose along his balls, tongue darting out to drag wet stripes across his skin. He bit the inside of Dean's thigh gently, but it triggered a yelp anyway, and then his tongue was trailing downward, down Dean's thighs. Cas shoved a pillow under Dean's hips, spread his cheeks, and licked a wet stripe across his hole.

"Oh fuck, Cas, nggh." Dean spread his legs more, wrapping his fingers in the sheets. "What're you doing - fuck, fuck!"

Cas's head popped back up, and he stared up Dean's body. His eyes were dark, a devious smirk on his face. "I'm taking you apart, baby. It's been a while since I made you scream."

That was all the warning Dean got before Cas dove back in, pointing his tongue and fucking inside, his thumbs holding Dean open. A finger slipped inside as well, and Dean arched hard off the bed.

"Fuck, Cas, m'gonna come, gonna come!"

"You go ahead and come, I'm going to fuck you anyway."

He did scream. White filled his vision and Dean came so hard the white faded to black, and when he was aware again, Cas was laying on his thigh, grinning and lazily finger fucking him.

"Shit," Dean panted, wiping a hand across his sweaty brow. "Shit, Cas."

Chuckling, Cas climbed back up the bed, pulling Dean's legs up to rest around his waist before pushing in. Dean groaned and tightened his legs, pulling Cas in until he bottomed out, his balls snug against Dean's ass.

"God, you feel so good," Cas whispered, leaning down to kiss him. "So beautiful when you come like that."

"I love you," Dean kissed him back, wrapping his arms around Cas's neck. "I'm so glad you're home."

"Me, too. I missed you so much. Nowhere else I'd rather be, believe me." Cas set up a slow and gentle rhythm, rocking Dean against the mattress. Dean was beyond sated and was not going to come again, but he watched with pleasure as Cas did, face buried in Dean's neck.

They lay still for a time afterwards, Cas sprawled across Dean's chest. He stroked dark strands of hair out of his face, enjoying the warmth and the closeness.

Dean loved the man in his arms. Loved him with every ounce of his being.

The phone on his nightstand rang.

"Dammit," Dean grumbled, reaching for the phone. He looked at the caller ID, and his heart stuttered.

"Who is it?"

"The hospital. Cas, I can't. I can't answer it."

Cas took the phone without a word. "Hello?" He listened to the caller on the other end, and Dean held his breath, his heart pounding against his rib cage. "Really? That's wonderful! We'll be there right away!" He hung up, his cheeks pulled into a huge smile. "Sam's fever broke! He's awake and asking for you - and the girls!"

"He remembered?"

"Yes. Lisa said he's been asking for Mari especially."

"Holy shit. Holy shit." Dean ran a hand down his face.

"C'mon, let's get showered and go get the girls!"

* * *

Sam was sitting up when Dean rounded the corner into his room. He almost laughed at his brother's wide eyed stare, but Lisa had told him how hard the last few days had been. A timid face peeked out from behind him, and Sam smiled at his daughter.

"Hi, Mari-girl," he said softly.

"You 'member me?"

"Oh baby. How could I forget my best girl?"

Mari smiled shyly, hiding her face behind Dean's leg. "You losted me," she whispered, voice muffled by Dean's jeans.

"I did. I had a bad bump on my head that made me forget some things. But I'm better now. And I'd really like a Mari hug."

Blue eyes twinkling, Mari cast a huge smile his way, and Dean scooped her up into his arms.

"Ok, careful now, sweetheart. Stay on Daddy's right side," Dean warned gently as he placed the little girl on Sam's bed.

She climbed up very carefully, nestling her tiny frame along Sam's right side. He smiled and sighed, loving the feel of her tiny body against his.

"Love you, Daddy," Mari whispered, little arms clinging tight.

"Love you, too."

"I miss Mommy," she whimpered.

"Me, too," Sam told her. His heart clenched. "I miss her so much."

"I want her. Want Mommy," Mari cried, tears soaking into Sam's hospital gown.

"Oh, baby. I know. I know. I think about her all the time. I wish we could have her back, too. My sweet Mari," he kissed the mop of her blonde curls, "I'd give anything to have her back."

Dean swiped at his own eyes, shifting from one foot to the other. Their eyes met over the little girl's head, and Sam could see untold pain in Dean's eyes. He wondered what the last few days had cost his brother, and resolved to be kinder to Dean.

"Where's your sister?" he asked Mari.

"Unca Cas gots Fizzy."

"Fizzy, huh?"

"Yup, Fizzy. She's been calling her that for about a week," Dean chuckled. "It's cute."

"Sure is."

"Daddy, Mammi and Poppy want me to go with them. I wanna stay at Unca Dean's."

"What?" Sam looked up at Dean. His brother sighed and dropped wearily into the closest chair.

"Jess's parents want the girls to come live with them. I'm hoping it won't be an issue now that you're awake and doing better, but we've had some pretty interesting arguments. The last few days - with the sepsis and the fever, they've been really letting me have it. They even tried to take Jess's body back to Omaha."

"I had legal documents - they were thorough. Did no one bring them to you?" Sam cringed at the thought of Dean having to fight his battles for him.

"I got 'em. They wanted a fight anyway."

Sam frowned. "What was the point of me drawing up papers, then? Jess and I were always in agreement that if something happened to us, we wanted you and Cas to raise the girls. Jenna and Lee knew that. And why the hell would they - I don't understand."

"I dunno, man. It's been a rough -" he sighed. "It's been rough."

"Hello, Sam," Cas smiled as he pushed a stroller into the room, Felicity snuggled inside. She smiled and cooed when she saw Sam.

"Hey! Hello, my little angel," Sam smiled back at Felicity. "Can I have her please?"

"Of course." Cas unsnapped the stroller's straps and picked up the baby. Mari made room, and Cas set the infant between her big sister and her daddy.

"There we go. Me and my girls," he smiled, and snuggled them close with his right arm.

Pulling up another chair, Cas sat next to Dean. "I think we should take a picture, don't you?"

"Yeah. Could you do that for me?" Sam pulled his girls close. "Look at Uncle Cas and say cheese!"

"Cheese!" Mari yelled.

Cas snapped the picture. "I'll send this out to the family."

"Hey, can one of you guys get me a new cellphone?"

"Sure," Cas agreed. "We can go do that this afternoon."

Dean was silent, and Sam looked at his brother.

He seemed distant, an almost lost expression on his face. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he seemed to be a second away from having a breakdown.

Again, Sam wondered what this last two weeks had cost Dean. Yeah, he was hurting and stupidly weak. He wanted Jess back so bad it ached down to his very core. But he'd been unconscious for most of it. What had it cost Dean to take care of three children, to deal with the Moore's unhappiness, to worry sick over whether or not Sam was going to make it? What had it cost him to do all of that alone?

Lisa had explained that until yesterday, Cas had been in New York, working on the last week of his show. Dean had done everything alone.

"You ok?" he asked him softly.

Dean startled slightly. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine, Sammy. Just tired."

"How's A.J.?"

"He's great," Dean said, his face lighting up. "He's sleeping longer at night, and growing like a weed."

"I'd love to see him."

"Yeah, I can make that happen. Definitely."

Dr. Vinton entered the room, chart in hand. "Hello there, Winchesters. I've got to do an examination on our patient here. Can we remove the girls for just a bit?"

"Yup," Dean stood, and reached for Mari. "C'mon, cupcake. Let's go get a snack."

"We come back?" she asked, blue eyes wide and concerned. "Don't want Daddy to losted me again."

"I won't, sweet girl. I promise." Sam sent Mari what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Go have a snack, and you can come right back." He patted the bed. "I'll save your spot, ok?"

"Ok."

Dean scooped up Mari and Cas got the baby. "We'll be back," Dean called as they left.

"Your girls are beautiful," Doc said, as he pulled the curtain around the bed.

"My oldest looks like Jess. It hurts to see her," he admitted, "but they're all I have left."

"Hold on tight, Sam. Those girls need you as much as you need them."

"I know."

Dr. Vinton pulled the blankets down, exposing Sam's right leg. "I'm going to put pressure on your leg, and I want you to tell me if you can feel anything, ok?"

"Yup." Sam watched as the doctor pushed on various places along his leg. He could see him touching his skin, but he felt nothing. "Nope. Nothing," he said flatly.

"That doesn't mean it won't come back later. Don't give up, Sam. We're going to do everything we can to help you."

"Dr. Vinton?" a female voice called from the other side of the curtain.

"Come in," he told her, pulling the blankets back over Sam.

A young woman with pale skin and thick, dark, curly hair poked her head around the corner. She smiled at Sam, chocolate brown eyes sparkling.

"Sam, this is Amelia Richardson. She's going to be your physical therapist."

"Hi, Sam," she said with a little wave.

"Hi."

"Amelia's going to work with you, help you make the most of your right hand, and she'll help you once the left hand is out of the cast. Hopefully by then, you'll have regained movement below the waist, and she'll help you learn to use a prosthesis, too. Sound good?"

No, it didn't sound good. Being whole, and walking on his own - that sounded good. Sam plastered a fake smile on. "Sounds great," he muttered.

"We'll start tomorrow. I'll bring a few small weights, and we'll work with you right hand, rebuild some of your strength."

"Ok."

Dr. Vinton finished writing on Sam's chart. "Sounds good. I'll leave you to it!" he told them cheerily as he made his exit.

"Ugh, is he always like that?" Amelia groused.

Sam was surprised to find himself grinning. "My brother doesn't like him, either."

"Your brother has good taste. He's a dick. Too sure of himself."

"Yeah, Dean's said pretty much the same thing."

Amelia smiled. "Anyway, I will be back tomorrow. We'll start slow. We'll take our time, and if you feel uncomfortable about anything, make sure you tell me. Ok?"

"Ok."

She patted his right leg. "We're gonna get this leg moving again, I promise. I've seen your x-rays. There's no break in your spine. I think it's either swelling or nerve damage. Either way, we're going to defeat it. You're going to walk again, Sam Winchester. I swear it."

For the first time since Sam realized he couldn't feel his legs, he felt a small trickle of hope. Amelia's smile was strong, determined. He believed her.

"Ok," he smiled back.

"Good. See you in the morning."

* * *

Sam spent the day with his girls, and he was sad to see them go, but it was after seven when they left. Mari had yawned so hard she almost fell off his bed, and it was pretty clear that Dean was dragging too.

He was watching TV and eating some lime jello Lisa had brought him when the Moores showed up.

"Sam?" Jenna smiled tentatively as she entered the room, Lee right behind her. "Can we come in?"

"Uh, sure," he said, setting the jello cup aside.

Jenna slipped off her coat as she entered the room. Lee pulled chairs closer to the bed, and they both sat. Lee ran a hand through his sparse grey hair. His eyes looked tired. Jenna fussed with her blonde ponytail, picked at non-existent lint on her tan slacks, and fiddled with the gold cross around her neck.

They seemed to be waiting for Sam to say something. He didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. He was tired, and the weakness from being sick was bearing down on him. He wanted to sleep. Sam wondered if they blamed him for Jess's death; after all, he'd been the one driving.

"How are you?" Lee finally asked.

"I'm hurting. They're giving me good stuff, but there's still a lot of pain. Still pretty weak."

"Have you seen Mari and Felicity?"

"Yeah. Dean and Cas brought them by today. We had a great visit."

"Mari looks just like Jess," Jenna said softly.

"She really does."

"Sam, I know you're probably going to think we're overstepping our bounds here -"

"You're not taking them."

Jenna's jaw dropped. "Just until you're well enough -"

"No. No one is better qualified to take care of my girls than Dean and Cas. I don't know what your issue is, but Jess and I drew up the will together. We both agreed that if something happened, we wanted them with Dean and Cas."

Spluttering, Lee spit out, "but their lifestyle - it's unnatural!"

"Maybe you think it is, but Jess and I don't feel that way. Dean is a good man. One of the best. He raised me, and I turned out fine. Cas is a good man too, and they love my girls as much as I do. Don't -" he said, cutting off Jenna's retort, "don't you dare say another bad thing about my brother or his husband to my face. I mean it."

"This is so - you're disrespecting my daughter's memory!"

Anger flared, and Sam felt his heart rate rise. "No, you are. You're ignoring what she wanted for her daughters. You're sitting here telling me that her decisions, her wishes - you're telling me that those things are unimportant. You're the ones disgracing her memory!"

Lisa pushed open the door. "Sam? Your heart monitor is going crazy -" Her eyes swept over the Moores.

Jenna's face was red, fury dancing in her eyes, and Lee looked like he was about to punch someone - likely, Sam. Lee's face reminded him of Jess when she was angry. She might have got her blonde hair and blue eyes from her mother, but she looked like her father.

"I'm fine. Jess's parents were just leaving. Weren't you?" he asked pointedly, as sadness pushed at the anger.

God, he missed her. He missed her so much.

"Fine. But this isn't over. We have lawyer friends, too!"

"Bring it. I'm disabled, not incapacitated!"

Lisa crossed the floor and laid a hand on Sam's left shoulder, rubbing gently, and she stayed quiet until the Moores had gathered their things and left.

"Jesus," he muttered, swiping at his burning eyes with his right hand. "That was awful."

"Mmm. I won't ask what it was about, but you can't let yourself get so worked up. Despite your fever breaking, you're still sick with the sepsis. It's a strain on your heart. Do you want me to have them put on a no visitation list? I can do that."

"No, there's no point. I can't completely keep them away from the girls."

"Ok. You should try and rest. It's late."

"I know."

Lisa adjusted his blankets, and leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Thank you," she whispered, as she reached up to shut off the lights.

"For what?"

"For defending Dean."

"Like I would ever let anyone say a damn thing about him. That's my brother. He deserves better."

Lisa smiled in the dim light of the room, patted Sam's shoulder and left.

Sam sighed and wiggled a bit, trying to get comfortable. It was hard, what with all the wires and tubes still in his body, but he managed. He lay awake for a long time.

"I miss you," he said to the ceiling. "Don't know how I'm going to get through all this shit without you. Wasn't supposed to be like this. We were gonna move, and everything was going to get bett-" he choked back a sob, tears dripping from his eyes and rolling down into his ears. "I'd give anything. I wish it'd been me, instead of you. Should've been me. Oh, Jess, I'm so sorry."

He sniffled, blinking his eyes against the dim light in the room. The exhaustion finally pulled him under, and he yawned, eyelids slipping shut.

"I miss you," Sam whispered one last time.

* * *

Cas was up early the next morning. He showered, checked on Dean and the baby, and went downstairs to start breakfast. By nine, everyone had stumbled into the kitchen, drawn by the smell of pancakes and bacon.

Dean had A.J. in the sling across his chest, and he stumbled slightly, making a beeline for the coffee maker. "I don't think I'm ever going to catch up on sleep," he mumbled as he poured a cup.

"Sure you will. A.J.'s not going to be a baby forever."

"I know."

They ate a pleasant breakfast. Mari managed to get syrup in her hair, so baths were needed afterward. When everyone was clean and ready to go, all three children were strapped into car seats in the Impala.

When they arrived at the hospital, Sam was sitting up, playing with some little devices a pretty dark haired lady was helping him with.

"Hi," she said brightly, "I'm Amelia. I'm Sam's PT." She held her hand out, and both Cas and Dean shook it. "Sam's doing great. We're working on mobility of his right hand."

"Hi," Sam grinned, using his fingers to manipulate a small weight.

"Hi, Daddy!" Mari yelled.

"Oh, are these your girls?"

"Yup. Big mouth is Mari, and the little one is Felicity. That little guy is my nephew, A.J."

Amelia smiled at Cas. "You and your husband's son?"

"Yes."

"He's a sweetie."

Mari wasn't waiting for an invitation. She pushed Amelia aside and climbed up Sam's bed. "Missed you, Daddy," she sighed, settling into his right side.

"Uh, sorry."

"Nope, we're done. You did great. I'll be back tomorrow." Amelia packed her things into a bag and tossed a little wave at the family as she left. "Nice meeting you all!" she said, on her way out of the room.

"She seems nice," Cas said, as he leaned down to unbuckle Felicity.

"She is. Seems to have a positive attitude without being fake. It's refreshing."

Dean snorted. "You're not talking about Doc Vinton are you? Fake positive attitude?"

"How'd you know?" Sam asked drily.

"Dean almost killed that man. He wanted us to turn your machines off."

"Cas -"

"No, it's ok. I knew that, Dean. Lisa told me."

Dean flushed and stared down at the floor. He pulled A.J. out of his carrier and busied himself with the baby.

"We forgot your cellphone. Once I take all of these little people," he cut his eyes at Dean and lowered his voice, "and the big one home for naps, I'll run it back up here. I've got to get groceries anyway."

"Ok."

"Wanna stay with Daddy," Mari said, her voice muffled from where she had her face buried in Sam's side.

"We're going to stay for a while, but Gramma Ellen's coming up to sit with Daddy for a while, and we're going to go home and take naps," Cas explained.

"No naps!"

"Marianna Elisabeth, you'll do what Uncle Cas tells you. He and Uncle Dean are in charge while I'm in here."

"Speaking of which," Cas sat on the edge of Sam's bed. "Dean and I discussed it with Ben. We're moving him downstairs into the rec room in the basement. We're going to set up his old room for you."

"Shit, you guys don't have to do that."

"We want to. You'll need a place where you'll have people to help care for you - at least at first. I do believe you'll be independent again in no time."

Sam looked over at Dean, and his expression clouded. "Is he ok?"

Cas turned to look at Dean.

A.J. was wrapped in his arms, eyes closed. Dean was also clearly asleep, leaning back against the chair.

"He's worn out," Cas sighed. "This hasn't been easy for him. He's been worried about you, and I wasn't around to help until yesterday."

"Lisa said I was really sick."

Cas nodded. "They were talking dialysis. But then the fever broke, and you've been steadily getting better."

"I'm trying to, at any rate. I still feel really weak."

"I think that's to be expected, Sam. Your body has been through hell." Cas stood. He crossed the room to Dean, gently plucking A.J. from his arms.

"I think he really did grow," Sam smiled, as Cas sat back on the bed with the baby.

Mari was asleep against Sam, and Felicity was quietly playing with a few brightly colored blocks on the tray of her stroller. It was peaceful.

"I'm worried about him," Sam said softly, looking at Dean. "Anytime something like this happens, he tends to take it very personally."

"And he has been. He believes the world is punishing him for being too happy."

"That's ridiculous."

"I know. But it's his mindset. I'm trying to help him break the way he thinks, but it's a process. And, you have to admit, he's come a long way from where we were this time last year. Or even from where we were when we met."

"Yeah, that's true."

"Right now, you need to concentrate on getting better. Nothing will help him more than seeing you thrive."

"I'm doing my best, I swear."

"I know you are."

They were quiet for a time, both lost in their own thoughts.

"The Moores came to see me last night."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Wasn't exactly a good visit. They think you and Dean are  _unnatural_ ," Sam scoffed. "I essentially told them to go to hell."

"Which is no doubt where they think Dean and I are going."

"Don't pay any attention to them. I want the girls with you guys. Period."

"They've been quite the source of stress for your brother."

"I can imagine. I'm hoping they'll leave him alone now that I'm awake."

"Perhaps. It does concern me. At any rate, it's not the first time I've been judged solely on the merits of my sexuality. I can handle Jess's parents."

"I know, but Dean is just - he can be -"

"Fragile?"

"Yeah. I just wish -"

"I know."

They didn't say anything else, and when Mari and Dean woke a short time later, Cas suggested heading home for lunch and naps. Dean didn't put up a fight.

Despite the nap, Dean was dragging. He'd been going without significant sleep for so long, that the decent sleep he'd gotten in the last twenty-four hours wasn't making much of a dent.

They left Sam and went home. Cas made lunch and put everyone, including a protesting Dean, down for a nap. He then grabbed Sam's new phone and his grocery list, and after dropping the phone at the hospital, drove his 'Vette to Hy-Vee for groceries.

He pushed his cart through the aisles, picking up something for dinner, diapers, and formula. People were staring and pointing, but he was used to that.

Cas grabbed two jugs of milk, checked his list, and headed up to the front of the store to check out. He was moving the milk to the belt when his eyes caught on a tabloid.

The milk slipped from his fingers, exploding all over the floor.

_IS CHEF CAS STEPPING OUT ON DEAN?_ the headline screamed.

Underneath, two pictures: one of Dean, arms full of the girls. Dean looked exhausted.  _Dean cares for injured brother's daughters while Chef Cas tears up NYC_ , read a headline beneath Dean's picture. But the worst thing of all was the big picture on the cover - John, with Cas's face in his hand, kissing him.

The way the shot was taken, you couldn't tell that Cas wasn't invested. You couldn't tell that he was furious, and seconds away from punching John.

With shaking hands, he picked up the magazine, oblivious to the employees cleaning up the milk mess. He turned the pages until he found the article.

There were more pictures; shots of him leaving restaurants with John, getting out of cabs with him, even a shot of them laughing at the bar two nights prior.

_How the hell did they get this out so fast?_ he wondered.

_Chef Cas, New York Playboy - But Where's Dean?_ the headline read.

_New York -_

_Chef Cas Winchester has been spotted often with Chef John Bartholomew. We were lucky to capture this shot of them kissing outside of a Midtown apartment building._

_Meanwhile, Chef Cas's husband, Dean, is back home in Lawrence, caring for his ailing brother's daughters and his own son._

Cas's stomach tossed. This was it. This was his reputation, completely ruined. After the incident in LA -

"Shit," Cas whispered. "Shit."

He left his grocery cart at the checkstand, ignoring the concerned inquires of the cashier, and stumbled out to the Vette.

Cas drove home in a daze.

How was he going to explain this to Dean?

How was he going to explain this to  _anyone_?

  
  



	14. Don't Believe Everything You Read

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Severely ubetaed like wow.

"Cas? I know you're upset, but you can't hide in the bathtub all day." Dean tapped on the door again. "Cas?"

Cas sighed, took one last swig of tequila and slid back under the hot water. He really wanted the world to just go away and leave him alone.

"Dammit, Cas!"

He could hear Dean banging on the door.

Fuck, he was drunk. Really drunk. He vaguely wondered what would happen if he didn't resurface.

Finding the tabloid had been bad enough, but then Bob from the network called and Cas's world collapsed a little more. He hadn't even told Dean that  _Taste of Heaven_  had been cancelled. Couldn't bring himself to admit it. All he needed now was for more info to be leaked - like the incident in LA.

Strong hands latched onto his shoulders and yanked him out of the water. "Dammit, Cas! We're not going to do this, do you understand me?!"

Startled, Cas flailed, knocking the bottle of tequila off the edge of the tub with one hand and smacking Dean in the nose with the other.

"Ow!" Dean yelled, releasing Cas, who slipped right back under the water again.

He spluttered as he surfaced.

Dean was madder than he'd ever seen him. "What the fuck, Cas? It's been two days. I know you're upset, I do. You have every right to be. But I can't do this with you right now. I can't take care of another fucking person! I can't!"

"Then leave me alone."

"So you can wallow in the bath? What the hell?"

"Fuck you."

"No. Dammit. Get the fuck out of the tub." Dean reached down and opened the drain. "And enough with this shit." He snatched what was left of the bottle of booze and dumped it down the sink. "You're upset. Fine. But you're not going to turn into a goddamn drunk mess while I fight with the Moores, take care of Sam, and take care of these kids. I can't take care of someone else!" he said again.

Cas silently watched the water swirl down the drain, mourning the loss of his tequila. Numb was better. Then he didn't have to think about how John Bartholomew had ruined his good reputation. He didn't have to think about the loss of income and how they weren't going to be able to afford Sam's medical bills. He didn't have to think about how he'd let Dean down.

"Hey," Dean said softly. He reached out and gently swiped Cas's cheek. "Don't cry. It's ok."

Crying? Cas touched his cheeks, surprised by the wetness. "'M not crying," he said stubbornly.

Dean knelt beside the tub. "Yeah, you are. And that's ok. Let's get you out and dried off. You can sleep this off after I get at least twenty ounces of water in you." He stood and reached for a towel.

"The network canceled  _Taste of Heaven_."

"What?" Dean froze, towel in hand.

"Bob said they're quote, going in another direction," Cas said, making exaggerated air quotations with his fingers. "And sales at both Pearly Gates locations have been slower than usual. My reputation is gone, Dean," Cas said bitterly. "I've become a pariah."

"We'll take it as it comes," Dean murmured, helping Cas to his feet.

He stepped gingerly out of the tub. Cas was drunker than he realized, swaying on his feet as Dean wrapped a towel around him and led him from the room.

"Sit. I'm going to get you something to wear."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Cas sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I've really blown the whole thing to bits, haven't I?"

"No, you haven't." Dean pulled the towel off, gently wiping the last bits of water from Cas's skin. He rubbed the towel through his hair and pulled the Rolling Stones shirt over Cas's head. A pair of boxers were tugged up his legs, and Dean tucked him into bed. "I'm going to go get you some water. Lay back and relax, but don't fall asleep yet."

Cas sighed as Dean left the room. He stared up at the ceiling, distantly aware of the tears rolling down his face and gathering in his ears. He couldn't bring himself to care.

The door to their room opened, and he caught a snatch of a baby crying before Dean closed it again.

"C'mon, you gotta calm down." Dean handed him a bottle of water and a couple of aspirin. "Drink the whole bottle and take the pills. I'm putting a trash can right here in case you barf. Here's your phone. Call me if you need me. And I'm locking up the alcohol." He patted Cas's blanket covered leg. "We can get through this. We've made it through everything else; we'll get through this."

"When did you get so optimistic?"

"Someone's got to be." Dean leaned down and kissed Cas forehead. He brushed away a few tears with his thumbs. "Sleep, baby. I love you."

"Love you, too," Cas sniffled. He opened the bottle of water as Dean left the room. The pills were taken as ordered, and the entire bottle drained. Cas rolled onto his side.

Sleep.

Yeah right.

"Cas?"

He must've fallen asleep after all. It was dark out, and it had been daytime when Cas laid down. Blinking at the light in the room, he stared up at Dean.

"Hey. How're you feeling?"

"Like shit."

Dean grinned. "That good, huh? Better than I expected." He cupped Cas's cheek in his hand, and Cas leaned into the touch. "Ellen's downstairs. She's going to watch the kids while I go see Sam. I won't be long. I wanted to go earlier, but it's been kind of busy day."

"No thanks to me."

"No. We're not going to do that. How many days have I had where I couldn't get out of bed? If anyone understands depression, it's me. Ok?"

"Just I -"

"No. No excuses. You needed a day to be self-absorbed. It's cool. We all need that once in a while. Also, I talked to Gabe. He thinks you should get Balth to contact someone like People Magazine. Give them an exclusive and tell them what really happened."

"Ugh."

"I think it's a good idea. Especially if they interview us both. We have the drug test results from the hospital, and if we get ahead of this as much as we can -"

"I just don't - I don't want to talk about it. I want the whole mess to go away."

"I get that, I do, but if you don't tell your side of this, the world is just going to assume that tabloid reporter is right. You deserve better than that, Cas!"

Cas opened his mouth, but Dean silenced him with his own. He kissed Cas long and deep.

"It's ok. Just think about it," he said after. "I'm going to the hospital. There's dinner downstairs and no one is upset with you. No one believes the report. This whole family is behind you, 110%. Ok?"

He nodded.

"Alright, I'll see you when I get back. I love you," Dean said softly, kissing him again.

"You deserve better, you know? After everything you've been through..."

Dean froze with his hand on the door.

"But hey, at least TMZ and that awful Perez Hilton are taking your side." Cas chuckled bitterly. "I'm truly the villain of this piece."

"Then turn it around on them."

"With an interview? Who would believe me now?"

Dean walked back to the bed. "I'm not letting you give up," he said firmly, reaching for Cas's hands. "We're gonna fight, ok? That assclown started this. I say we finish it."

Cas's stomach lurched. Dean's expression was so bright and determined, and Cas didn't have the heart to bring him down.

"Call Balthazar while I'm out. See what he thinks." Dean leaned down and kissed him again. "I'll be back. Love you."

Cas didn't call Balthazar. He didn't go downstairs for dinner. He rolled to his side and pulled the covers over his head.

He could still hear Bob's voice in his head.  _It's not you or anything you've done. We've just decided to go in another direction. I'm sorry, Cas._

Please. Like he believed that shit.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand.

_-Cassie. Call me. Have to talk. Important. -B_

Cas sighed and tossed the phone back on the nightstand, rolled back over, and let himself pass out.

* * *

Sam stared out of his window. Outside, the leaves were beginning to turn, and several danced in the wind.

It'd been three weeks, almost four. November now. Where had the time gone? Of course, he didn't really remember the first two weeks he'd spent in Lawrence General. The first week, he'd been non-responsive, and the second week he'd spent his time attempting to die of sepsis.

This last week, he'd worked with Amelia more and more, relieved as he regained some dexterity in his right hand.

At least something was working right.

"Did you hear a word I said?"

"What?" Sam looked up at Amelia, who was packing all her little PT devices into a blue duffel bag.

"I asked if you were excited to be going home."

"Uh, yeah. I guess so."

"Don't sound like it," she said softly. Amelia set the bag aside and perched on the edge of Sam's bed. "Wanna talk about it?"

Sam sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. "I um, I dunno. I guess I'm just ready to go home."

"You don't sound very convinced. Surely you don't want to stay in this hospital longer than necessary?"

"Well, no, but I just - I'm worried about my brother. They've got so much going on right now, and he's busy rearranging his whole house so he can take care of me and my daughters, and it just doesn't seem fair. His son just turned two months old, and he's spent most of the kid's first months on Earth dealing with my shit. It's just not fair."

"You're worried you're going to be a burden to him."

"Well yeah. I mean, I can't go to the bathroom myself, can't do much of anything really. I'm going to need help around the clock and not only is that going to be a strain on him, it's pretty embarrassing to me. I've gone from successful lawyer to helpless invalid overnight."

"You're not helpless. Yes, you've got a lot to overcome. But I've seen the chair Dean got for you. It has controls so you can operate it with one hand until you get the left arm out of the cast and get it moving. Once you regain feeling in your legs, we'll get you fitted for a prosthesis and you'll be up and about again. It's completely reasonable to assume that you'll be back to daily jogs at some point."

"Right," Sam said bitterly. "I think you're way more optimistic than I am, Amelia."

"Maybe. But I'm also damn good at my job. And I'm stubborn and determined. I get what I want. And what I want is for you to get on your feet again, capische?"

"Yeah."

Amelia toyed with her ponytail. "That's not all that's bothering you, is it?"

"Worried about money, too. I'm in some pretty significant debt, and I'd just lost my job. Jess's health insurance will continue to cover for a while, but the bills are gonna start piling up. Dean's gonna end up laying out a lot of money on me and - y'know, I don't know why I'm dumping all of this on you," Sam sighed. "I'm sure you've got problems of your own and don't need my drama, too."

"Nah, it's ok. For real. I'm here to help you, and I don't mind listening."

"Thanks."

"No problem." Amelia patted his leg.

"You're so kind," Sam said quietly. "And so positive and upbeat. Sometimes, especially at night, I lie awake and I'm just - I'm so fucking scared," he admitted, "and I feel like I'm letting you down by doubting. Feel like I'm letting my girls down. Letting Jess down," Sam sniffled, and rubbed at his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Amelia looked out the window. "Don't be. It's ok."

They sat in silence for a bit, both staring out the window. The sky was gray, and the windblown leaves had given way to rain. It pattered against the glass, leaving long streaks of water behind.

"In August of 2012, my husband got called up for a deployment to Afghanistan," Amelia said softly. "His enlistment was a month away from ending, but the Army pulled something called 'stop loss' which meant his enlistment would be extended until six months after the year long deployment ended. We'd been trying to start a family, but stopped as soon as we got the news. Didn't want to have a baby with him gone."

She sighed, and pulled her ponytail around to the front, running her fingers through the curls. "It was almost over when I got the call that Don had been hurt. They were flying him to Landstuhl, an Army hospital in Germany."

"My brother got sent there when he was hurt, too. Also Afghanistan."

Amelia turned back to look at him, surprised. "I didn't know Dean was in the Army."

"Yeah. Joined after 9-11. Almost died over there. He just started talking about it in the last few years. He's been in therapy and stuff. It messed him up pretty bad."

She nodded. "I can imagine." Sighing, she released her ponytail and looked back out the window. "When I got there, he was in a coma. They told me they were surprised he'd held on that long." Sniffling, Amelia wiped her eyes. "He died that night. I'd crawled into bed with him, and I was holding his hand. I sang to him. Don died in my arms." Covering her face with her hands, she was quiet, didn't make a sound, but her shoulders were shaking.

Sam didn't know what to say. He could understand why she'd shared this with him; that made sense. But he was still so wrapped up in his own pain, the agony of losing Jess, that he didn't think he had it in him to comfort her.

"I'm not telling you this because I want your pity or anything like that. And I'm not saying that it's the same for both of us, but I just want you to know," the hands slipped from her tear stained face, and she reached for Sam's hand, squeezing gently. "I just want you to know that I understand. I'm a widow, and I understand. And if you come to therapy and you just need to talk, or sit in silence and just be, Sam, I understand."

He nodded, feeling tears prick at his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

"I have to go. I have another patient." Amelia stood and gathered her things. When she was ready, she reached for Sam's hand again. "You're not alone. I promise you that." She patted his leg and left.

Sam thought about what she said. He laid in his bed and thought about what it would have been like to hold Jess in his arms as she died.

Oh god, but he wanted her back. It hurt so bad. It was the ache in his chest that no amount of medicine could numb. Sam believed maybe it was part of the reason he wasn't ready to go home yet. Going home would make it real. Once Dean settled him into his new bedroom at the house, he wouldn't be able to pretend anymore.

Not that he could really pretend now.

He'd started crying at some point, tears rolling freely down his cheeks to gather in his hair and his ears.

"Sammy?"

Dean. Always showing up at just the right moment.

"Alright, dude, it's ok. C'mon, calm down. It's ok." The bed buzzed as Dean lowered the head. "Got yourself all worked up. C'mon." Dean smiled sadly at him, adjusting the blankets. His eyes looked tired, exhausted. "When's the last time you had pain meds, huh? Are you overdue?"

Dean pushed the call button. "Let's see who's on duty. Get you something, make you feel better."

"Dean, I - I -"

"I know. I know it hurts. Believe me." He reached for Sam's hand as he pulled a chair over. "I know between the pain and Jess and - I know, buddy."

They sat in silence. Ava let herself into the room, syringe in hand, confirming that it was indeed time for pain meds. She injected the contents into Sam's IV line, did a quick run of his vitals, then left the room, leaving Sam alone with Dean.

The floating weirdness that always came with the meds took over, drying up his tears as he slipped into the nether state between consciousness and oblivion.

"You want to talk about it?" Dean asked quietly.

"No. Wanna sleep," Sam slurred. "Hurts. I just - I would trade myself for her, Dean. I would." He meant it too. It would have been far better for Jess to survive than him. She was stronger, always had been, and Sam knew what it was like to grow up without a mother.

As horrible of a person as it probably made him, he would have traded John for Mary in a hot minute.

"Sammy, it's ok. I understand that, too. About wanting to trade Mom for Dad? But that doesn't mean you won't be a hell of a lot better at this than Dad was."

"I said that out loud?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, you did," Dean smiled sadly.

"I'm sorry, I just - meds. No filter."

"It's ok. Look, in another day, you'll be home, and I can take care of you. It's going to be ok. Cas and I, we got the room ready. Rented a hospital bed that does this weird thing that will prevent you from getting bed sores. It's got like a thousand tiny foam balls in it. It's weird, but they said it'll help. I rented you a chair with controls on the right side, so you'll be able to get around, but I doubt you'll need it for long and …" Dean prattled on, filling the silence with friendly chatter.

Sam drifted, on a warm wave of medicine and the disconnection the meds brought on.

" _Hey, Jude. Don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better."_

He could hear Dean singing to him, feel the wetness on his own cheeks. Sam wondered when he'd started crying again.

" _Hey Jude, don't be afraid. You were made to go out and get her. The minute you let her under your skin, then you begin to make it better."_

Dean was tracing soothing patterns into the skin of his hand, and Sam let himself go. He let the tears come, let them fall, knowing Dean would be there to keep him safe.

* * *

Sam finally fell asleep during the nah, nah, nah, nahs. Dean sighed, released Sam's hand and leaned back against the chair.

"What a day," he muttered to himself. He was so tired of being worn out and exhausted. Between Cas's drama and get the house ready for Sam, not to mention caring for the children, Dean felt like he didn't have a moment to himself.

"He's probably going to sleep through the night," Ava said quietly, as she pushed the door open. "You should go home and rest. Look like you need it."

"Don't know if I could sleep if I tried."

"Still. No point in running yourself into the ground. Don't make me call Cas on you."

Dean scoffed. "Right."

"C'mon." She walked over to the side of the bed and grabbed his coat. "Go. You're taking him home tomorrow. Go home and rest. Ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going."

Dean said goodbye to Sam and bundled up. He waved goodbye to the nurses and took the elevator down to the first floor. As he stepped through the doors and outside, a thousand bright flashes went off in his eyes. Dean stumbled back and threw his arm over his eyes.

"Dean! Dean, did Cas cheat on you?"

"Dean, are you getting a divorce?"

"Is brother ok? How are you holding up?"

"Is it true Cas's show has been cancelled? Did your show get cancelled?"

"Is Cas going to close the restaurants?"

Dean stared in horror at the cameras and reporters. He shoved his way through, digging in his pocket for the Impala's keys. The paparazzi followed, still hurling loud questions at him, and they surrounded the car as he opened the door and locked himself in.

Slamming the key into the ignition, he pushed on the gas pedal, revving the engine and making it very clear that he was about to pull out. Whether or not the reporters got out of the way was up to them.

Once he shifted into gear, they got the idea and moved.

There were more on the street in front of his house. They didn't dare come on the lawn. Dean parked the car and walked around to the front of the house.

He ignored the loud questions and raised his hands for silence. Surprisingly, the crowd quieted immediately.

"I'm giving you five minutes to get the fuck out of here or I'm calling the goddamn cops!" He spun on his heel, turning and heading into the house. He shut the door firmly, and shut off the porch lights.

His phone rang.

"Hey, Benny," he greeted his friend.

"I got a .22. Always made expert marksman…"

"Very funny, Lafitte."

"Most of 'em seem to be leavin'."

"I gave them five minutes to go or I was calling the cops. The first bunch ambushed me at the hospital."

"Fuckin' Christ," Benny grumbled.

"Benny - I um - I um -  _shit."_ Dean rubbed his eyes. "So fuckin' tired. I'm so fuckin' tired."

"I know, brotha." Benny was quiet a moment. "Cop is rollin' down the street. Piranhas are rollin' out. Go get some lovin' from Mama Ellen and get your ass t'bed, alrigh'?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Ben."

"Anytime, darlin'."

Dean hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket. He turned and startled a bit. Ellen was standing behind him. She pulled him close and wrapped her arms tight around him.

"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't see them out there. I would have warned you otherwise."

"I know," he murmured, laying his head on her shoulder. "It's ok."

"It's not ok. That Bartholomew character better hope and pray he never crosses paths with me!"

Dean couldn't help but grin. "Rawr, Momma Lion."

"Damn right."

He let her hold him for a moment more, drawing strength from her. "Did Cas come down and eat?"

"No," she let go of him. "I tried taking him a tray. He uh - well, he wasn't interested."

"Which means he probably didn't call Balthazar. Shit. What am I going to do with him? What I am going to do with this whole mess?" Dean pulled away from Ellen, and walked into the kitchen, intent on the bottle of whiskey he knew was hiding in the cabinet above the fridge.

Ellen followed him into the kitchen, taking the bottle from his hands as soon as he got it out. "Uh-uh! No you don't!"

"Ellen!"

"No! This is exactly what you were pissed at Cas for earlier!"

"I wasn't going to have a lot," Dean protested, choking back a whine as she dumped the contents of the bottle down the sink.

"Sorry."

"Totally not sorry."

"No, not really." Ellen turned from the sink. "Dean, baby. You've got circles under your eyes a mile deep. Go upstairs, get a shower, and go to bed. I'm staying. I'll take care of the kiddies tonight. You need rest. Go get it."

"Ellen…"

"Honey. You've got to learn to accept help when it's being offered and especially when you do actually need it. Alright?"

"Yeah."

"Are you hungry at all?"

"No."

"Ok." Ellen cupped his cheek and he leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. "Go rest honey. I'll take care of everything."

Dean nodded and turned to go up the stairs. He stopped at the foot and looked over at Ellen. "Thank you."

"No thanks needed, sweetheart." She smiled reassuringly and opened the dishwasher.

He could hear the dishes clinking as she put them away. Wearily, Dean dragged himself up the stairs. His room was dark. Cas was snoring softly, so Dean went right to the bathroom, stripping his clothes and dropping them on the floor. They could go in the hamper in the morning.

In the bathroom, he turned the shower on as hot as he could stand, climbed in, and just stood there, letting the stream beat down on his tired back and shoulders.

Tomorrow, he needed to attack the massive amount of laundry in the basement. Tomorrow, Sam was coming home. Tomorrow, he'd essentially become a full time nurse. Tomorrow, he needed to try and convince Cas to snap out of it and rejoin the land of the living.

"Shit," he whispered, resting his head on the tile wall. He was just so fucking  _tired._

Dean washed and got out of the shower, dried off, and walked out to the bedroom, crawling under the sheets naked. He was too tired to put anything on.

Cas rolled over and burrowed into Dean's side. "Feel like shit," he mumbled into Dean's neck before dropping back off to sleep.

It was oddly hard to breathe, lying flat on his back with what felt like a two ton weight sitting on his chest. A lump formed in his throat, hot tears burning in his eyes.

He hadn't even kissed A.J. goodnight.

Dammit. He wasn't going to cry. He was sick of the emotional meltdowns and he was damn sick of crying.

No. No more. Fuck the world and everything it threw at him. Dean's resolve strengthened, and he wrapped his arm tight around Cas, pulling him closer.

Fuck the drunk drivers of the world. Fuck the paparazzi. Fuck John Bartholomew.

_The world's on notice_ , he thought.  _Dean Winchester's done being fucked over._

  
  



	15. Selfish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter hasn't been beta or even proofread. But anyway. I'll remove this message once it's been done.

There was nothing in this world that could explain just how devastating depression was until you experienced it for yourself. Even after watching Dean go through it, Cas had never really grasped just how difficult and debilitating it could be.

Cas stared at his unshaven face in the mirror. The dark circles under his eyes had been there for a least three weeks, but the scruff was new, just a few days old. He looked like a homeless man. Pulling the neck of his shirt away from his chest, he sniffed.

"Smell like a homeless man," he muttered to himself. Turning away from the mirror, he pulled open the shower door and started the water. Nevermind that it was ten at night. He'd laid around all day. Might as well go ahead and shower.

After, Cas felt a rumble of hunger in his gut that he hadn't felt in quite a bit. He was actually hungry. He dressed in a pair of ratty sweats and a navy tee with half the neck torn out.

Dean was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing pans in the sink. "There's leftover spaghetti," he muttered, intent on his task.

"Thank you." Cas pulled open the fridge and found the container, tossing the whole thing in the microwave.

"Dude, c'mon," Dean yanked the door back open. "I just cleaned that damn thing and if you don't pop the lid it's going to go everywhere. I'm tired of re-cleaning stuff!" Lid popped, Dean shoved the container back in, slamming the door shut.

"Are you ok?"

"Fine."

"You don't seem fine."

"Well, let's see. It's 10:30. You just got up. I'm just now doing the dishes, I still have laundry to fold, A.J. will be looking for a bottle in a minute or two, I'm still trying to make arrangements to get Sam to PT in the morning, I haven't been to work since before the accident, so yeah, Cas, I'm just fucking fine."

"I'm convinced," Cas returned dryly, turning to pull a beer from the fridge.

The pan clattered in the sink as Dean whirled to face him, suds coating his hands. "Do you think this is funny? This isn't funny! All you do is lay around and sulk while I have to do everything else and I'm drowning! Even with Ellen and Missouri here almost everyday -," tears glittered in Dean's angry eyes, "I'm fucking drowning."

"Dean -"

"No, look. I get it. I understand you're depressed. I do. But fucking hell, Cas! Balth offered you a solution and you refuse to take it!"

"That is no solution -"

"Yeah? How's business, Cas? How are the restaurants doing? Oh wait. You haven't gotten out of bed in three weeks. How the fuck would you even know?"

Cas turned on his heel, stalking out of the room.

"Yup, run away. Don't change a fuckin' thing."

Stomping up the stairs, Cas slammed the bedroom door behind him. He threw himself on the bed.

Dean just didn't get it - Balthazar's solution was no solution at all. Go on TV and spill all his secrets for the American Public to pick over and chose what's true and what isn't. Meanwhile, John Bartholomew had been playing the media like a pro, sharing his heartbroken tale of falling in love with Chef Cas, who led him on and then burned him.

Why Balth and Dean thought Cas spilling everything to Katie Couric would make any difference in his favor, Cas didn't know.

The sound of a baby crying carried from downstairs. Cas rolled onto his belly and pulled the pillow over his head. An ugly twist of guilt filled his chest. He should be helping Dean, not laying around. He should get his ass out of bed and go downstairs and help in any manner possible, be it laundry, dishes, feeding the baby.

Instead, Cas stayed where he was, burrowed under the blankets, hiding from the rest of the world. At some point, he dropped off, amazing for the sheer fact that he'd spent pretty much the whole day sleeping, and he woke suddenly, startled out of sleep by an unknown noise. His stomach grumbled; Cas had never actually eaten the spaghetti he'd thrown in the microwave. Checking his phone, he was surprised to see that it was well after five in the morning.

The other side of the bed was cold and empty. Dean hadn't come up. Frowning, he pulled himself from the warmth of the sheets and headed downstairs. A night light burned in A.J.'s room. Felicity and Mari were both sound asleep, little breathy snores filling the space. In the living room, A.J. lay in the bassinet section of the porta-crib. He was on his back, little arms raised over his head with his tiny fists balled. His hair was almost gone and just a light layer of fuzz coated his scalp.

Cas smiled. His son was beautiful, perfect. He ran fingers gently over his small head, enjoying the adorable scrunched up face A.J. gave him in return.

He turned to look for Dean, sure he'd be asleep on the couch, but he wasn't there. The door to Sam's room was ajar, light spilling onto the hardwood.

"Dean's sleeping downstairs," Sam said in way of greeting. "He just went down there about an hour ago. Don't bug him. If the kids get up, you take care of them. Let him sleep, for fuck's sake." He set his iPad aside and leveled Cas with a cold glare. "You're going to give him a nervous breakdown, you know?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Really? Are you that obtuse? He's so worked up right now, and while a lot of it is taking care of me and the kids, not having your help is killing him. That little outburst in the kitchen tonight? A lot kinder than you deserve."

"Sam -"

"No, I get it, Cas, I do. You had the whole goddamn rug ripped out from under you. I get that you're hurting and that you're angry. Fuck, if anyone gets that it's me." He flipped the blanket back and pointed at what was left of his left leg. "Being mad at the world, I get. Taking it out on the one guy who's behind you 100% all the fucking time? Yeah, that I don't get."

Cas sank into a chair set just inside Sam's room. He ran a hand over his face and sighed. "I've been pretty self absorbed."

"Just a smidge." Sam's voice took on a softer tone. "Look, there's a lot of things in this world I can't stand, but at the top of that list? I can't stand to see Dean cry. And he's been doing a lot of it lately. He's good at hiding it. Always has been. But it's pretty hard to hide red-rimmed eyes. It's been three weeks since the tabloid fallout. You can choose to do something about it, or hope it goes away, but you can't keep doing this shit to Dean. It's not fair. I was so angry earlier tonight, that if I'd been able to get out of bed, I would have hit you. I'm not lying."

"I feel like an asshole."

"And you absolutely should. He's putting everything aside to take care of us.  _All_  of us. He deserves better. I know I haven't exactly been easy on him. I get so damn short-tempered and frustrated with the snail's pace my recovery is on, but that's not his fault. What happened to you isn't his fault. But somehow, he's the one getting punished."

"I'm going to make it up to him. Starting now."

"Good. Just don't - don't forget. Cas, he needs support right now. And I'm not saying that you don't, too, but Dean - you know how he gets. He wants to take responsibility for everything, he wants to take the blame for everything - I just want him to be able to relax a little bit and stop feeling like everything is on his shoulders. If you could help him out, do laundry, cook, feed the baby, it would help him so much. That's all I'm asking, ok? Cas, you're my brother too. But don't put me in a situation where I have to chose between him and you, because he'll win every time."

"As he should. Sam, I'm so sorry."

Sam held his hand up. "No. Don't tell me. Tell him. Better yet, show him. Have breakfast ready when he gets up. Clean the kitchen. Work on that mountain of clean laundry on the couch. Make him sit still and relax. Ellen and Bobby are getting me to the hospital for PT today. Make him stay home. Make him nap, take a long bath, whatever."

"Yes, I can - I can do all of that."

"Good."

"You should try and sleep."

"I can't," Sam sighed. "Getting the cast off my hand tomorrow and then a slew of xrays to see if I need another round of surgeries on it. My right leg is aching like nobody's business. I thought I'd be glad to get feeling back below the waist. Not so much."

"I'm sorry. Is there anything I can get you?"

"No, I'm good. Just like I said. Make Dean be lazy today. Feed him. He needs it."

"I will, Sam. I promise."

Sam nodded and picked up his iPad, making it clear the conversation was over. Cas wandered back out to the kitchen, surveying the countertops. As usual, everything was pretty clean. Dean had always been fastidious about keeping the kitchen extremely tidy.

Digging through cabinets, he found yeast, cinnamon, raisins, and other ingredients, and set about making cinnamon rolls. By eight, they were in the oven, A.J. was fed and freshly diapered, the girls were up and dressed, and all of the laundry on the couch had been folded and sorted into baskets.

Ellen and Bobby were very pleased to see Cas up and about when they picked Sam up at 8:30, and even more pleased to hear that Dean was still sleeping. It was after ten before Dean wandered up the stairs.

"Cas? Holy shit, it's after ten and Sam has to go to the hospital and -"

Cas wrapped Dean tight in his arms and pulled him close. "Everything is taken care of. Ellen and Bobby came and got him. I've fed the children, and there are cinnamon rolls waiting to be warmed up for you. There's fresh coffee. I finished folding the laundry. You're going to take today to rest and recharge and let me deal with everything - because I'm so sorry, Dean. I am so sorry."

Dean didn't say anything, but he let his body relax into Cas's arms and buried his face against Cas's neck. A warm wetness seeped into his shirt, and he stroked Dean's back soothingly.

"You deserve better. I'm sorry I've been so self-absorbed. I shouldn't have let this mess take over my life."

"Gonna talk to Balth?" Dean asked, voice muffled in Cas's shoulder.

"I don't know. But I'll consider it. Ok?"

"Ok."

"Unca Cas?"

"Yes, Mari?" He turned slightly to look down at the little girl.

"Fizzy and Jay pooed."

"Ah. Alright then, let me get on that."

Dean chuckled into Cas's shoulder.

"I know it's not ok yet. I know I screwed up, and I can't promise I won't screw up again before this is over. But I am sorry. I am. I'm going to be more available to you, and I'm going to help out more. Ok?"

"Ok," Dean said quietly.

"Let me go change the stinkies. Have some breakfast, a cup of coffee, and go back to bed. Take a bath. But no work today. Ok?"

"But -"

"No buts. Today is Dean is Resting Day. It's official. Me and Sam decided." He squeezed Dean again and turned away to pluck a few diapers and wipes off the counter. "It's going to be ok, Dean. I promise."

* * *

"I hate to say it, but your wrist is definitely going to need at least one more surgery, possibly two. Your leg, however, is healing beautifully. So that's something." Dr. Elizabeth Noble looked over Sam's xrays again and smiled at him over the rim of her glasses. "I think you're going to lose the leg cast sometime after the new year, and then we can start talking prosthetics. Amelia says your PT sessions are going wonderfully, and that you work very hard."

"I do my best," Sam said dryly.

"Now, my next question - have you started seeing Dr. Barnes like I recommended?"

Sam sighed. "You don't think it would be weird for me to see the same therapist my brother sees?"

"Hmm, I think it would benefit you - she's already familiar with you and your family, so that's a whole lot of explaining you  _wouldn't_  have to do."

"I don't think I need a therapist."

Dr. Noble took her glasses off and stared at him so hard he squirmed. "Right. Because you haven't been through anything physically or emotionally traumatizing in the last several months?"

"I'm doing ok."

"Sure you are. How much sleep have you had in the last twenty-four hours?"

"Enough," Sam muttered, staring down at his hands.

"More than six hours?"

He didn't answer.

"More than four?"

"No. Like two or three, I don't know."

"Sam, seeing a therapist isn't admitting defeat. It's acknowledging that this thing is bigger than you are and asking for help digging out of the hole. Did you think less of Dean for seeking out therapy?"

"No. Of course not!"

"Then why are you being so resistant? This could be so good for you. I've known Pamela for a long time. She is the best. She's sweet, and kind, and I know Dean thinks the world of her."

"Yeah, ok, fine. If it gets you off my back, fine. I'll go see her."

"There's my little ray of sunshine," she said dryly. "I'll see you back in a week. I want to study these xrays a little more before we move forward with any more surgeries. Alright?"

"Ok. Thanks." He pushed a button on his wheelchair and rolled out of the office to where Bobby was waiting for him.

"Time for PT?"

"Yup."

"Wanna stop at the cafeteria first? Could use a coffee."

"Uh, ok. Sure." Sam switched the chair to manual and let Bobby push him down the hall. He helped him get settled at a table and joined the small line at the counter.

Sam sighed and stared out the window. Next week was Thanksgiving, and then the short slide into Christmas.

Christmas.

What was it going to be like, without Jess? She always made the holidays magic. She and Dean both loved everything about it, from draping every available surface with lights, to baking a thousand cookies, to working with Cas to make the best meal in the state of Kansas. She loved staying up late on Christmas Eve to wrap presents and stuff stockings.

A tear rolled slowly down his cheek. Every time he thought he was getting used to the idea of her not being around anymore, something like this would come and hit him out of the blue. Even now, when he was starting to get better, Sam would've have traded his life for hers in a heartbeat.

"Aw, c'mon son. It's alright. Here ya go," Bobby set a cup of coffee and a cookie on the table. "It's alright," he said again.

"No, Bobby. It's not alright. It's not ever going to be alright. Don't you get that?" Sam swiped at the tears streaming down his face. "It's not bad enough what happened to me, but I had to lose Jess, too? Why? Why did I have to lose everything? My wife, my job, my house, everything!"

"Boy. Take a look a look around. You ain't lost everything. You still got two little girls who need you more than the need anyone. I don't care how good Dean is to them - it's Daddy they want. Ok? So get that through your thick skull. You still got this whole damn family that loves you. I know you miss Jess. Hell, son, I been married to Ellen almost twenty years and I still miss Karen every damn day of my life. If you think I don't get that. Hell, I get it. But you've got to keep fighting. Your girls deserve that much from you."

Sam shook his head and stared out the window. "They deserve to have their mom."

"Sure they do. But she's gone. We can't bring her back. And it wouldn't be real damn fair to them if they lost their Daddy, too."

"Sam?"

Wiping at his eyes, Sam turned his head to see Amelia standing there, a concerned look on her face.

"Hey."

"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting, but it's time for your session and I thought you might be down here. Mind if I steal him, Mr. Singer?"

"As long as you quit calling me Mr. Singer. It's Bobby."

"Alright, Bobby," Amelia smiled. "Ready, Sam?"

"Yeah."

Amelia released the brakes on the chair and teasingly told Bobby she'd return the "hostage" shortly. Sam was quiet as she pushed the chair through the halls of the hospital and into the room she used. It looked like a small gym, with exercise equipment stationed around the space.

"So we're going to work with your left leg today."

"You mean what's left of it," Sam shot back bitterly.

Amelia froze near a table full of weights. "Hmm. Maybe we should just chat today and play with the hand weights?"

"I don't want to talk. Talking gets me nowhere."

"Oh. Ok, are we have a survivor's guilt day? 'Cause I've had a few of them myself. They suck rabid dog dick."

"Wh-what?" Sam laughed incredulously. "Did you really just say that?"

"Made you smile."

"Uh, huh. Yeah. Guess it did. It honestly sounded more like something Dean would say."

"Like I've said many a time before, your brother has good taste."

"Right." He watched as she picked up a weight and brought it to him. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm being kind of jerk right now."

"You're entitled. Been a pretty shitty couple of months for you. Just don't take it out on me. I'm trying to help." She grinned.

"I know. You're amazing. And a great help. I just - I miss her so much. I guess I really am having a survivor's guilt kind of day."

"I hear you," Amelia took Sam's hand and straightened his fingers before carefully attaching the weight belt to his wrist. "How did you appointment go? I see you're in a brace now, not a cast."

"She says the wrist will need more surgery, but my leg is doing great and I should have the cast off before the first of the year."

"Progress." She led Sam through a series of exercises. "How many more surgeries for the wrist?"

"She said a couple. I dunno."

"Hmm."

"Yeah."

They finished several sets of exercises. Amelia did convince Sam to try some exercises with the stump of his left leg. At first, he was resistant, but Amelia egged him on in her gentle manner and he complied with her instructions. As usual, by the end of the session, he was the good kind of tired and soaked with sweat.

Amelia handed him a towel to wipe his face and took her seat across from him. "How you feeling?"

"Ok. Feel like I just ran twelve miles. Think I'll ever be able to run again?"

"I know you'll be able to run again. Advances in prosthetics have made that a reality."

"Huh. Running always made me feel so incredible."

"You know, Sam, your athleticism is only going to help your recovery. Your muscles were already so strong and toned, they're more than ready to help your body get moving again."

"Cool. I hate being so dependent on everyone. It's friggin' frustrating that I can't help Dean with chores and stuff. Once I get this off," he glared down at the brace on his wrist, "I can at least fold laundry and stuff."

"It'll come. I hate to say be patient, because I know you're tired of hearing it, but be patient." She smiled.

"Yeah, I hear you. You're so good to me. I'm glad you're my therapist."

"Me, too. Now let's get you back to Bobby. I'm sure you're more than ready to go home. And make sure you call Dr. Barnes this week. Pam is the absolute best."

"Oh, you too?"

"Yup. After Don - well, let's just say I know firsthand how good she is."

"Right. Thanks, Amelia."

"Anytime."

* * *

Time crawled by, and to Dean, it was sometimes a lot like driving through fog. His days blended into each other; an endless cycle of chores, caring for Sam and the kids, and keeping Cas's head above water.

The problem was, he'd forgotten to keep his own head above water.

It had been three months since the accident. Two since Cas's career imploded. Dean still hadn't been back to work. He was about to just sell the business to Benny.

A.J. was four months old. His son was rolling and cooing, and smiling at everyone that came near. He was a fat, happy baby, and every day with him was an absolute joy.

The girls and Sam were doing as well as could be expected, but today, today had been -  _difficult_.

Cas still had days when he shut down. Days when he spent the entire day in his room. He'd beat himself up afterward, and apologize profusely to Dean, but it still happened, and it still royally fucked the dynamic of the house. Today was one of those days.

Sam was much better. Every day he regained more control of his body. The cast was off his right leg, and Amelia had been working with him to strengthen the muscles of both legs in preparation for a prosthetic fitting. Still, there were days when he missed Jess so badly that he couldn't function - or his temper was out of control, and he snapped at everything and everyone. Today was one of those days.

Mari had the flu and an earache. Dean had worked hard to keep her away from A.J. and Felicity, hoping the two babies wouldn't get it. They hadn't - but he was pretty sure he had. The nausea had started that morning, stuck with him throughout the afternoon, and now, he'd barely made it through dinner.

Sam was in his room with the door shut and Cas was upstairs. It took him awhile, but he managed to get everyone in bed. Once that was done, Dean stood in the living room and surveyed the mess.

His little house was trashed.

With no strength left to deal with it, he grabbed a quilt off the back of the couch, wrapped himself in it, and wandered out to the backyard. Dean sat on a swing and stared up at the canopy of stars.

"Sweetie pie, it's thirty degrees, what are you doing out here?"

"Had to get out of the house."

Missouri sat on a swing next to him, muttering something under her breath about how the swings weren't made for old lady's butts. He smiled a bit at that.

"Something wrong? I should have come over earlier and checked on you all."

"It was a rough day."

"Aw, honey, I'm sorry. What'd Cas get you for your birthday?"

"Birthday?" He stared blankly at her.

"Sweetie, it's January 24th. It's your thirty-eighth birthday. Didn't anyone do anything for you?"

"I think we all just forgot."

"But not Ellen, nobody?"

"I guess -" Dean's voice broke. "Just been so much going on…"

"Ok, well I didn't forget and I've got a lovely pecan pie I made just for you sitting on my counter. C'mon over to my house. I'm gonna cut you a piece of pie and make you a nice, hot cup of cocoa. C'mon now." Missouri stood and tugged on his blanket. Dean followed her next door, letting her settle him on her squashy couch. "Now you stay right there, while I warm up this pie."

Dean nodded, snuggling into the couch pillows. It was the last thing he remembered. He woke to sunlight streaming in through Missouri's windows, and the sound of a coffee maker going in the background.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, sitting straight up on the couch. A power wave of dizziness threatened to send him under again.

"Lay down," Missouri barked. "You're running a damn fever."

"Kids - Sam -"

"Ellen's over there with Jo and Charlie. Everything's being taken care of, and you're gonna stay here and rest. You caught Mari's flu, didn't you?"

"I thought I might hav-" His stomach gave a mighty lurch, and something must have shown on his face. Missouri shoved a bucket towards him just in time.

When he finished, she wiped his face with a damp cloth. "C'mon, sugar, let's get you in the guest room. You need to rest, you poor thing."

Dean didn't argue. He let her help him to his feet, every joint sore and aching, and he collapsed gratefully into the pillowtop.

"Sleep, baby," she murmured.

He was distantly aware of her pulling his jeans off and settling him into the bed, pulling blankets over him. She kissed his forehead, and he slipped back under.

* * *

 

Snatches of time flittered through his consciousness. At one point, he woke to find Cas sitting on the bed with him, holding a glass of something. He helped Dean drink, all the while apologizing profusely for all the trouble he'd caused him, but mostly, it was Missouri he found at his bedside, mopping the sweat from his brow and encouraging him to drink more of the pale yellow liquid. Dean knew when it was over, he'd hate Gatorade again.

* * *

 

"Missouri?" Dean's voice was weak and feeble, but he cleared his throat and tried again. "Missouri?"

"I'm here, honey. What's wrong?" She switched on a dim light.

"Nightmare. I want Cas. Can you get Cas for me?"

"Of course. Give me a minute."

Still riding the fever, Dean drifted in and out. Cas appeared out of nowhere, and he climbed into the bed and wrapped Dean in his arms.

"Stay," Dean croaked. "I need you. I need you." Dean didn't know when he'd started crying.

"I'm here. It's ok. You're just sick. It's ok." Cas held him close and rocked him slightly.

"Dreamt I lost you. Can't lose you. Stay, Cas. Don't go. Don't leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere. Ssh. Sleep, baby. Sleep."

* * *

 

The fever broke all at once; one minute, Dean was thinking he'd be sick forever. The next, he was sweating profusely, Missouri smiling as she read the digital thermometer. "There we go. All better. I've got clean clothes here for you. How about a shower?"

"That sounds great," Dean croaked. "I feel like I've been sick forever."

"It was actually only about a day and half."

"Really?"

"Really. Go on, get showered. I'm going to get some soup on for you."

Twenty minutes later, Dean was clean and fresh, and he wandered out to Missouri's sunny kitchen. She set a bowl of soup and some crackers before him. "Eat. You need it."

"Thanks."

Missouri tended to her plants while Dean ate.

"I read them the riot act over there. 'Specially Cas. Not that Sam isn't capable of seeing when his brother's in trouble. I climbed Adam's tree, too. Hell, I got on everybody. You shouldn't have to be doing all of this alone. And there should be enough people in this big ole family that you can do the things you want to do. Like go back to work. And don't even try to tell me that's not what you want."

"It is. I've been wanting to go back for weeks."

"I know, honey. I know." She turned to face him, hands on her hips. "Mmm, mmm, mmm Dean Winchester. You are one of the best men I've ever known, and probably the most selfless. But you've got to learn to take a little more. Your existence is not to serve the needs of others. Once and while, you need to be selfish. You need to say, I need. I want. Me, me, me."

"Missouri -"

"And I know it goes against every fiber of your being. But you've got to be a little more selfish." She cupped his chin in her hand and leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Be more selfish, baby."

* * *

 

"Dean, I'm so sorry!"

"No, Sammy. Not right now. I'm tired. I'm going back to bed." I'm being more selfish, Dean told himself, dragging his ass upstairs. He collapsed into the bed and was asleep in moments.

* * *

 

"Dean?"

"Go away. I'm not done being selfish yet." Dean rolled over and went back to sleep.

* * *

 

The next time he woke, the sun was low in the sky and he wanted a bath. Dean got up and went to the bathroom, turning the taps on as hot as he could stand and dumping a bunch of bubble bath in. His skin was pink when he got out.

Dean felt relaxed, content. Back in the bedroom, he found a tray of snacks. It was simple fare, cheese and crackers, grapes, but he smiled at the thought of Cas putting it together for him. He nibbled while he dressed in sweats and a clean tee.

"Dean?" Cas opened the door. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah."

"How are you feeling?"

"A hell of a lot better. And I'm sorry."

"Don't you dare apologize. We fucked up and left you high and dry." Cas sat on the bed and pulled something from his pocket. "I have something for you."

"Yeah?"

"It's not much, but it's a trip to a spa. I thought you might like a really good massage. God, Dean, I'm sorry I forgot your birthday."

"It's ok. A massage sounds great."

"I have something else for you, too."

"Yeah?"

"I talked to Balthazar and agreed to the Couric interview."

Dean sat up and stared. "Really?"

"Yes. It's time to get this shit out in the open. At this point, what do I have to lose? The only thing I care about losing is you -"

"And that won't happen."

"Exactly."

Cas leaned back against the headboard and Dean snuggled into his side. "Proud of you."

"Thanks. I'm nervous as hell."

"Don't be. I'll be right there with you." Dean wove their fingers together. "It's going to be ok."

"I hope so."

Dean chuckled. "I know so."

  
  



	16. Keep it Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My absolute most humble apologies for taking nearly two months to update.  
> Now, onto the warnings -  
> 1\. There is an attempted sexual assault.  
> 2\. There is a graphically described attempted suicide. (The character in question lives, although that won't be made explicitly clear in this chapter.)  
> If you need more information about either of these, please message me directly on my tumblr (winjennster.tumblr.com/ask) or leave a review before reading and I will try and get back to you as soon as possible.
> 
> We're getting close to the end. I predict 3-5 more chapters. 
> 
> And thank you for your patience.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I don't think I can do this."

Dean turned from the window to stare at him. "Little late for that now," he mused, but the fear and apprehension was in his eyes, too. "Something's gotta give here, Cas."

"I know, I know. I just wish - I wish we'd done this at home, on our turf. It would help."

"Well, that's what we get for listening to Balthazar, I guess." Dean looked around the spacious hotel room. "And I miss A.J."

"Me, too." Cas crossed the room, taking Dean's hands in his and pulling them to his mouth. He kissed Dean's knuckles. "I can't even begin to tell you how much it means that you're here going through all of this with me. It's more than I deserve."

"No, it isn't. You deserve good things, Cas. You've been so good to me. This is the least I can do."

"You really do believe me, don't you? That nothing happened?"

There was determination in Dean's eyes. "Hell yes, Cas. I've believed you from the minute you got home and told me. I have no reason to doubt you. I know who you come home to." Dean switched their hands until he was holding Cas's. "We're going to get through this. Ok?"

"Ok."

"Come on. Gabe promised us a good dinner, and I'm starving. Let's go."

"Alright."

Cas was pleased to see the restaurant was packed when they arrived. It made it easier to blend into the crowd and hope they wouldn't be accosted. It had happened several times already - for some reason, the paparazzi had really latched on to the drama, and had made a nuisance of themselves from the time they arrived in New York.

"Hey guys," Gabe smiled, sitting down beside them on the plush bench seat. "How's it going?"

"It's going," Dean set the menu down. "I gotta go to the men's room. Cas, you know what I want?"

"Yes."

"Alright." Dean patted Gabe on the back as he left the dining room.

"Is he giving us a minute?"

"I think so. God, Gabe," Cas muttered, dropping his face into his hands, "we're both so damn stressed out. I'm worried sick about this Couric interview and he's worried sick about it too, and Sam, and the bills, and -"

"Bills?"

"Yeah. It's starting to pile up. Sam's insurance didn't cover everything, and his house still hasn't sold. Dean and I had to put the Hawaii house on the market, too."

"Oh, man. I'm so sorry, Cas. What can I do to help?"

"I don't know."

"At least let me cover dinner, alright?"

"Ok. I'm not even going to fight with you."

Gabe waved over a waiter to take the order. "Gonna send you out a couple of glasses of Hennessy, too. I think you could both use it."

"Sounds like a plan. Thanks, Gabe."

The glasses arrived a few moments later, and Cas savored the first several drops in his mouth, rolling the amber liquid around his tongue. It occurred to him that Dean had been gone for quite a bit - at least ten minutes. Concerned, Cas fished out his phone to check for texts, but there weren't any. He twisted around in his seat to peer down the hall towards the bathrooms, but he didn't see Dean.

Cas was just about to leave the table when Dean reappeared, his face red and angry.

"Are you ok?"

"No. Can we get our stuff to go, please? I want to go."

"Dean -"

"Not here. Ok? I just want to go."

"Whoa. What happened, Dean-o?" Gabe appeared at Dean's elbow. "You ok?"

"No, I'm not - what kind of assholes do you have working here, huh, Gabe?"

"Ok, why don't we take this back to my office? Hmm? We're making something of a scene."

Cas's eyes took in the stares of the other restaurant patrons, and Dean must've seen it too. His face flared bright red.

"Shit," he muttered. "I didn't realize how loud I said that."

"No worries, c'mon." Gabe led the way back through the kitchen and up the stairs to where Cas's little office had once been. He shut the door behind them. Dean did his best to pace in the small space.

"Ok, what happened, and sit down, would ya?"

Dean dropped heavily into a chair. His face was still red. "One of your kitchen staff just attempted to - to -" Dean was so angry he was shaking. "He fucking pinned me to the wall and said - said he'd never cheat on me. That I deserved better." His voice had taken on a bitter, mocking tone, and he stood, pacing the small room again in his fury. "Then he tried to kiss me. Tried to stick his hand down my pants. What the fuck kinda staff you runnin' here, huh?"

"Name?" Gabe's voice was icy cold. "Should have been on his jacket if he's kitchen staff."

"I dunno. Something Styne?"

"Ok. I'll be back in a moment."

Gabe left the room and Cas looked over at Dean. "Baby, you're shaking. Are you ok?"

"Pissed! Who the fuck - I don't - fuckin' pissed!"

"I know. C'mere, sit," Cas patted the empty side of the couch. "Come sit with me." Dean huffed and dropped onto the couch, falling into Cas's arms. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"No, I'm not. I'm feeling a little violated, to be honest. I mean, he had me against the wall and had his hand on my waist and then he tried to stick his hand down my pants.  _If you were mine, I'd never cheat on you. No, I'd keep you locked up just for me._  Called me pretty. Asshole! I feel - ugh, dirty. Like I need a long hot shower."

"This is my fault."

"What? No! It's not your fault, Cas!"

"Yes, it is. I should have seen how much trouble John was right from the beginning."

"No, babe, it's not your fault," Dean insisted, reaching for Cas's hand. "You always want to see the best in people. That's an amazing thing and one of the hundreds of things I love about you."

"He's gone," Gabe announced, slamming back into the room. "I fired him on the spot. Only credit I'll give him is that he didn't try to lie. I've got my guys packing up a feast for you two, and I called a limo. I'm so sorry, Cas."

"It's ok. No harm done, right Dean?"

Dean had buried his face in Cas's shoulder and was still shaking a bit, and Cas wondered if some of that wasn't residual fear over what had just happened.

"Listen, Dean. I hire above board people here. I had no idea - I am so sorry."

"Not your fault, Gabe," Dean muttered into Cas's shirt.

He was quiet the rest of the time they were there, quiet in the limo back to the hotel, and declined the dinner Gabe sent. The incident had clearly affected him, and by the time they crawled into bed that night, Dean was edgy and restless.

Not knowing what else to do, Cas pulled him closer, wrapping his arms tight around Dean's body. "Calm down," he whispered. "It's over."

Dean made a scoffing sound. "It's never over. Remember when we were just mildly famous and my biggest worry was about that woman following me around at Costco? Now we're stupid famous. No one cared until there was a story, a scandal. Now everyone is in our faces, demanding answers and acting like they have the right to take a piece of us. Like we've somehow become less than human. Like the fame means we don't have the fucking simple right to privacy or to expect at least a little human decency from people. I'm so fucking angry. What gave that dick the right to put his hands on me? What gives these fucking sharks the right to follow us around with cameras?"

"Dean -"

"No. Don't you dare say it's ok, because it's not. It's not ok. I have bigger things to deal with right now and shouldn't have to deal with this, too!" Dean shoved himself out of Cas's arms and slid out of the bed. He started pacing across the floor. "I can't handle all of this. I'm trying. Goddamn, Cas, I'm trying, but I'm one fucking person and I can't do this alone. I can't." He wrapped his arms tightly around himself.

Getting up, Cas crossed the room and pulled Dean close, holding him tight until he stopped struggling. "No one is asking you to handle it alone." Cas ran a hand through Dean's hair, and Dean let his head drop to lay on Cas's shoulder. "You are so strong. But no one expects you to be _that_  strong. I know I've messed up a lot since this whole mess started, but I am trying, too. Whatever happens, we're going to get through all of this together. We'll handle the bills. We'll handle the Moores. We can do this. Ok?"

He felt the nod against his neck and carefully maneuvered them back to the bed, tucking Dean in beside him and tugging the blankets over them. Dean's body relaxed beside him, and they lay in silence. Cas was sure that Dean had dropped off, and he startled when Dean raised his head to look at him.

"You really think we can get through this and come out on the other side?" Dean's expression was open, desperate, looking for reassurance that he couldn't find on his own.

Cas hooked his hand behind Dean's neck and pulled him into a kiss. "Baby, I know it," he murmured against Dean's lips, kissing him again. "We're forever, remember? I'm not going to leave you, and sure hope you're not planning to leave me -"

"Never," Dean said firmly.

"So we'll get through this. Can you trust me on that? We'll get through this."

"Ok," Dean whispered, "Ok."

* * *

Dean chewed a nail and nipped at his cuticle. He watched Couric's people set Cas up with a mic, the wire to his own already irritating the skin under his chambray button down. Balthazar wrung his hands as he studied Dean, his eyes darting from Cas and back to Dean again.

"You've got to calm down," Balthazar admonished him quietly. "If he figures out how worked up you are, he's going to feed off of that. I need him calm. Nervousness will show on camera and make him look like a liar." He fished a flask out of his pants. "Would this help?"

"Yes," Dean hissed, yanking it from Balth's hands. He unscrewed the top with shaking fingers and downed a shot's worth before Cas noticed. It burned the whole way down, and Dean welcomed the heat.

"Ok. I know you're very upset. Cassie told me what happened yesterday and that vultures have been circling, but Dean, please, please calm down. If you can do that for me, I will personally pay for you two to take a week in Aruba or something."

"It's not that dramatic."

"Yes it is. This interview - it's everything. I know you haven't been following what's been going on in the media, and I can't very well blame you, but if he can't convince the audience that he was wronged -" Balth shook his head. "The Kohl's product line - if you lose that, it's a substantial part of his income, especially since the Network dropped him. Dean - I know about the medical bills and Sam's debts. He needs to keep that product line. And they're ready to drop him. Please tell me you understand."

Ignoring the slide of unease sneaking cold up his spine, Dean nodded. "I understand." He took several deep breaths, concentrating on getting his heart rate and breathing under control. "Ok. I'm good. Let's do this."

"Excellent. Bless you, darling. She's going to start with Cas, but I do believe she intends to speak with you, too. Think about your answers. Don't react. Process. Alright?"

"Ok."

Balthazar smiled and patted Dean's shoulder, leaving him to see to Cas. Dean watched their exchange from across the room, years of friendship evident as Balthazar offered what comfort he could.

Cas looked up, caught Dean's eyes and smiled.

Katie Couric entered the room then, in a tailored black pinstripe pantsuit. She smiled at Cas and hugged him and they were chatting quietly when Dean stepped out onto the balcony of their hotel room. He didn't want to see the first part of the interview, didn't want to watch Cas squirm while Katie Couric poked and pried.

Digging through his pockets, he found his phone and dug it out.

_Hey. I know you're busy, and things are happening, but when you get home, we need to try and convince Sam to see Pamela._

_He's getting worse. I'm trying to keep him occupied, but he's been dreaming about Jess. Crying a lot and trying to hide it._

_We'll talk more when you get home. Little man is doing great. Hope things go well today. <3_

Dean sighed. Jo sounded as stressed as he felt.

He could hear the rise and fall of voices in the room behind him and Dean pushed down the sudden urge to sob. How had this become his life? All he wanted was to be with Cas and A.J. and his family, go to work now and then - how had he ended up splashed across tabloids and featured on gossip shows and how the hell had they become famous enough to merit a Katie Couric interview?

Speak of the devil -

"They're ready for you."

Dean took a shuddering breath and slammed his walls into place. "Ok."

* * *

Katie Couric was everything Dean had ever seen on TV. Bright, enigmatic, perky - all of the above.

"Hello, Dean," she smiled. "Glad you could be here as well."

Cas reached across the arms of the chairs they were sitting in and wrapped his fingers around Dean's.

"Thanks," Dean said softly.

"So Castiel and I have been talking about the last couple of months. He says things have been pretty hard on you. Your brother, Sam, was in an accident and lost his wife?"

"Uh, yeah. She died at the scene, and it was pretty touch and go with Sam for awhile there."

"How's he doing now?"

"Better," Dean said, thinking about Jo's texts. "He's struggling. He's still got a long way to go, but we're getting there."

"And your son is doing well?"

"Yes," Dean grinned. "He's almost five months old, and giggling, smiling, rolling around. He's awesome."

Katie smiled. "You're in love with being a dad, aren't you?"

"Yeah. I have another son, Ben. He's in college now, and I'm so proud of him. I missed out on a hell of a lot of his baby moments though, so a lot of what's happening with A.J. is new and it's just - everyday is something new, he does something new. He's wonderful." Dean looked over at Cas and smiled. Cas squeezed his hand and smiled back.

It grounded Dean. Just like that, his old confidence rushed back in, and he knew he'd be able to take anything Katie Couric threw at him.

"So it's safe to say life has been maybe a little more exciting than you'd like?"

"Definitely."

"Hmm. Tell me a little about how you reacted when you found out about John Bartholomew's allegations."

"Gettin' right into it, ok. I can roll with this." He dropped his old school lady killer grin on Katie. "I knew as soon as it happened. Cas came home and told me everything."

"So you believe Cas didn't initiate the affair, as Chef Bartholomew has intimated?"

"What affair?" Dean scoffed. "There was no affair. That piece of human excrement drugged my husband and made a move on him. There was Rohypnol in Cas's system when his brother took him to the ER. There's documentation stating that clearly."

"Castiel, you've mentioned that you and John had been friends up until that point. What changed for you?"

"Well, someone I don't actually get along with pulled me aside and mentioned that they believed his intentions were not innocent. That was definitely a wake up call for me; up until that point, I believed all he wanted was friendship."

"Who was it? The person that warned you."

Cas fidgeted. "A fellow chef I don't particularly get along with."

"Would that be Naomi Carter?"

"Yes."

Katie flipped through her notes. "And why don't the two of you get along?"

Dean could feel the tension in Cas's hand where it still joined with his. "Um, differences in opinion and personality. A different approach to teaching. That's all. It's nothing terribly dramatic."

"So Dean," Katie turned back to him, seemingly satisfied with Cas's answer, "what did you think when you saw the picture of your husband and Chef Bartholomew kissing?"

"I was disappointed. I wanted to see the one after that."

"The one after -"

"Yeah, when Cas put his fist through the jerk's face. Pretty disappointed that the same paparazzi who have been chronicling every moment of our lives lately seemed to have missed getting a picture of that, since it occurred like half a second after he tried to kiss my husband,  _try_  being the operative word here."

Katie raised an eyebrow. "You seem pretty angry, Dean."

"I am. I'm frustrated that Cas has never gotten into trouble of any sort before, but this Bartholomew clown has a rap sheet a mile long - I just don't understand why people bought his story at face value."

"Well, he was talking to the press. Castiel was being very tight-lipped."

"That's true. I admit I was hoping it would go away on it's own."

"Chef, why do you think Chef Bartholomew chose to talk to the press in the first place?"

Cas sighed. "I can only speculate, but I assume it was for the publicity. He's hoping to open a New York restaurant."

"Any publicity is good publicity," Dean added bitterly. Cas squeezed his hand again.

"I'm sure anyone at home watching can see how united the two of you are. You've been holding hands since Dean joined the interview - but I have to ask. Dean, has this put a strain on your marriage at all?"

Dean swallowed. "Um, yeah, but maybe not in the way you would think? It hasn't shaken the core of our marriage. It hasn't done a damn thing about the way we feel about each other. It's made other things, outside elements, create a problem. Cas losing his job with the Network for one. The lost income is hurting us, with Sam's injuries and medical bills. You'd be surprised how little good insurance actually covers. And when Cas lost his job, he got pretty depressed. That made things difficult. But at the end of the day, we still have each other, we'll still as in love as we ever were - I dunno, maybe even a little more. Nothing makes things clearer than having to face a crisis."

"Castiel, what's your thoughts on this?"

"I agree with Dean. The basic solid foundation of our marriage hasn't been shaken. We're holding on to each other and facing the demons together. It hasn't been easy. I'm not going to say we haven't argued. But at the end of the day, we still have each other. And that's more important than money or shows, or anything really. If I lost everything tomorrow and still had my family and Dean? I'd be ok. I know that now."

* * *

"You ok?" Dean asked over dinner. They'd ordered room service, both of them far too drained to go out anywhere.

"Yeah, I guess," Cas said distantly. "That whole thing was -"

"Exhausting?"

"God, yes. I'm so glad it's over."

Dean finished his burger and tidied up the area around his plate. "Back home in the morning. I can't wait. I don't mind New York, but I miss A.J., and Jo texted me earlier, said Sam's not doing so hot. I'm so ready to go home I wish we could go tonight. I don't think I've ever been so ready to get on a plane."

"I hear you. What's going on with Sam?"

"She said he's depressed. Having a lot of nightmares. She wants us to convince him to start seeing Pamela."

"That would be good for him." Cas gathered their empty plates, setting the tray outside the door. Dean stood and went outside on the balcony, shivering a bit in the cold February night. Warm arms wrapped around him a moment later. "We have this nice hotel room with a big king size bed and a very large bathtub. No child to interrupt and the interview is behind us. I can think of several different ways we could spend the evening and all of them involve you being naked."

Dean grinned. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Come back inside where it's warm," he purred, hooking his fingers into Dean's belt loops.

"So bath first or -"

Cas cut him off with a firm kiss. "Ssh, come inside," he said again, dragging Dean with him as he walked backwards back into the room. He turned Dean to face him as he slammed the balcony door shut behind them, his fingers already tugging Dean's belt open. He stripped the clothes from Dean as he maneuvered them to the bed. Cas made short work of the buttons on Dean's shirt, almost ripping it from his body. He shoved Dean hard, and toppled him onto the bed.

"Damn, Cas," Dean wheezed, as lips trailed up his leg. "You're so fuckin' hot like thi-" Frantic knocking made them both freeze. "The hell?" Dean muttered, sitting up.

"You're barely dressed. I'll get it." He left the room and was back a second later with a harried looking Gabe.

"What's going on?" Dean asked warily.

"Guys, I'm sorry. But I just got a call from Ellen. Dean -"

Dean felt his heart climb into his throat.

Gabe took a deep breath. "It's Sam."

* * *

"You're doing better. You are."

"Stop lying to me." Sam shoved Amelia's hand off his knee. "I'm not doing better. I'm not supposed to be in pain all the time, but I am."

"Sam -"

"No. This isn't working. It's pointless. All of it's pointless."

"It's not pointless. These exercises help you regain strength. You need that strength to get you back on your feet." She frowned. "What's going on? This isn't like you."

"And how the hell would you know? You think you know me? You don't know me."

"I'm calling Dean."

"Go ahead. He's off playing Mr. Big Shot in New York. Good luck getting him on the phone."

Amelia sighed and stood. "We're clearly not going to get anywhere today," she huffed. She walked over to her desk and picked up a pen, leaning down to scribble something on a piece of paper. "Here," she said, thrusting the note at him. "This is my personal number. I don't give it to just anyone. Once you've gotten home and settled down, if you want to talk, call me. I told you before. If anyone in this world understands how much it hurts to lose a spouse, it's me. Call me in the middle of the night if you have to. I care about you, Sam. Probably more than I should."

He looked up from the note in his hand. She flushed and looked away.

"Go home. Go home and rest and hug your daughters. And call Pamela, for God's sake."

"Right. Sure. 'Cause the shrink will solve everything."

"She'd help if you just give her a chance, dammit."

"Whatever," Sam shoved her number down into his pocket and made to wheel out of the door of Amelia's office.

"See you next time?"

Sam didn't answer. He wheeled down the hall to the elevator and rode it down to the first floor. He was silent on the ride home, despite Ellen and Bobby's best efforts to draw him into the conversation, and once he got home, Sam locked himself in his bedroom.

Adam, Madison, and Johnny were at the house that day, and he could hear the children all talking to each other in high pitched voices. A.J.'s cry could be heard over all of that, but was silenced quickly, likely with a bottle.

There was soft knock on his door, and a small voice saying "Daddy?" but he closed his eyes and ignored it until Mari went away.

"Sam? There's dinner," Ellen coaxed sometime later. "You haven't eaten all day."

Sam ignored her, too, and eventually, Ellen left as well.

When night fell, he dragged himself into bed, exhausted, praying for sleep.

Sleep without dreams.

Sleep that didn't bring Jessica's broken, bleeding body to him.

But it did. It always did.

"Baby," she whispered, her words hissing out of her broken jaw. "Baby, I miss you. Baby, I need you."

In the dream, he was whole. In the dream, he wasn't the weak, broken shell of a man he'd become.

She shoved him against a wall, smiling grotesquely at him with blood streaming down her face. "You were supposed to come with me, Sammy," she said in a sing-song voice. "We're supposed to be together forever, remember? You promised, baby."

"Jess - please -"

"Come with me, Sam," she held her hand out, waiting for him to take it. "Come with me." She looked at him with the saddest expression on her battered face. "You weren't supposed to live. Dean should've unplugged you. Dean should've let you die." And then her torn lips were pressed to his and all he could taste was blood.

Sam woke in a cold sweat, drenched, his tee shirt clinging to his chest. His face was wet with more than just sweat and his hands were shaking.

Hauling himself out of bed, he slid into his chair.

This was ending tonight.

Checking to make sure no one was in the living room, he rolled himself into the bathroom.

Sam had been thinking about it for awhile. He thought about the best place in the house to do it and decided on the bathroom. It would be easier to clean up the mess in there. No carpet to be replaced when he was done.

The note was written. They'd find it in a day or two when they went through his things. He'd found and stashed the razors several days before. Dean wouldn't be home until tomorrow, so Dean wouldn't be the one that found him.

That gave him pause. If he did it, if he managed to carry out his plan, it would destroy Dean.

But Dream Jess was right. Dean should've unplugged him. He shouldn't have lived. Sam knew he was supposed to be dead. Everything would be better if he was gone, and Dean would provide for his girls better than Sam ever could.

Making sure the door was latched behind him, Sam reached into the linen closet for the razors he'd hidden there.

The first cut was shallow and it stung. He hissed, tried again. Four or five shallow cuts before he finally got the balls to cut deeper into his left wrist. The blood welled up, sudden and bright, and Sam stared, transfixed, as it rolled in a steady stream down his hand and all over his pants.

It was coming out far faster than he'd imagined, and a swell of panic filled his chest.

"I'm going to die," he muttered, simultaneously terrified and transfixed. Sam's eyes switched from his bleeding left wrist to his untouched right arm.

He brought the razor down without hesitation, watching as the blood welled up and splashed onto his pants.

"Sam?" Ellen's voice came from very far away.

It was already happening. Hypovolemic shock first, death not long after.

"Sam! Sam! Answer me!" Ellen pounded on the door.

He was growing weaker, and Sam slumped forward, tumbling from the chair as Ellen and Bobby burst through the bathroom door.

Ellen's scream of despair was the last thing he heard.

  
  



	17. Remarkable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...at least it didn't take two months this time.

By the time they got back to Kansas, it was three in the morning and Dean was a complete wreck. His hands were shaking, and he'd been far too worked up to drive, handing Cas the keys to the Impala without another word. The whole way to the hospital, his brain ran worst case scenarios through his head, but one thing kept ringing clear.

Sam had tried to kill himself.

How had he missed it? How had he missed how far down the rabbit hole Sam had fallen? Dean was supposed to be looking after him, taking care of his little brother. That was his job. Always had been.

So how had he missed this?

"Stop it," Cas said firmly, "stop beating yourself up. It's not worth it." He took the I-70 exit, pointing the car towards Lawrence and the hospital.

"It is - I should have -"

"No. No. We've been trying for weeks to get Sam to go see Pamela. He refused at every turn."

"I should have made him -"

"Stop it. It's not your fault."

Dean choked on his words, wringing his hands. "I feel so helpless."

"I know," Cas said softly. "I know."

They were silent the rest of the way to the hospital, and the exhaustion Dean felt was threatening to overtake him. It took the staff almost twenty minutes to respond, and then they were told that Sam was sedated and on the locked psych ward.

"But - I just need to see him! I just need to - I need to know he's ok!" Dean argued.

"He's not ok," the doctor said coldly. "He attempted to kill himself. We've repaired the damage and given him a transfusion. He became very hostile after that and we had no choice but to sedate him. He's in a locked ward. He's made it very clear he doesn't want to see anyone. And that's just how it is. I suggest you go home, Mr. Winchester." The doctor spun on his heel and left them.

"But - but -" Dean stuttered.

"It's no good. Let's go home. We'll try again later."

Tears flooded Dean's vision, and he felt Cas take his arm. He let Cas lead him out to the Impala and settle him in the passenger seat. They drove home in the dark, still too early for sun to light the skies above Lawrence.

Once in the house, Cas steered Dean upstairs. "Get undressed and get in bed, ok?"

"What about A.J.?" Dean asked as he unbuttoned his jeans. He wasn't about to put up any kind of real fight, exhausted as he was. He watched Cas pull back the sheets and close the blinds.

"I'll let Missouri know we're here, but she'll likely keep him long enough to let us sleep." Cas pulled his shirt off and tossed it in the hamper as he walked past Dean and into the bathroom. He came back a moment later with a glass of water and handed Dean two pills. "Xanax and Ambien. Take 'em and get in bed."

Dean frowned at the pills. "I don't want to -"

"I don't want to hear it. Take them. You desperately need sleep and I know you well enough to know you're going to lay awake beating yourself up. Take the damn pills."

Sighing, Dean took the pills from Cas and threw them back, flushing it down with the entire glass of water.

"Good. Now finish getting undressed and get in bed. I'll be back in a minute." Cas left the room.

Dean did as he was told, stripping down to just his boxers and crawling beneath the sheets. Thoughts raced through his mind. How was he ever going to be able to settle enough to sleep?

God, what if Sam had succeeded? What would Dean have told the girls? Mari was already so unstable, going from happy little girl to traumatized child begging for her mother in three seconds flat. At least the Moores had gone back to Nebraska. Dean hoped to hell they'd leave him alone. That's all he wanted. It was going to be hard enough to bring Sam back from this without the Moores creating issues.

Of course, thinking about Sam's problems brought his brain around to their money issues. Dean couldn't understand why Sam's house hadn't sold yet. It was a nice house, on decent property, and they were asking less than the appraisal just to get the house sold. Cas and Dean's house in Hale'iwa had only been on the market two weeks and already had a contract on it.

Dean had managed to pay down all of Sam's other debts, and had convinced the country club to let him out of his membership as a courtesy, but now the medical bills were starting to stack up - and Dean had already drained his fairly substantial savings account. With Cas's lost income, it was all adding up, and Dean just wished he could fall asleep and not think about it. Just drift off and pass out and forget his problems, and Sam's problems. Just pretend it didn't exist for a while.

"I thought you'd be long gone," Cas said quietly, as he let himself back into the room. "I just called Missouri. She'll bring A.J. over later." Cas unbuttoned his jeans, let them fall to the floor and climbed into the bed. "Come here."

Dean rolled over and into his arms, burying his face in Cas's chest.

"There's no point in saying everything will be ok, is there?"

"No," Dean whispered.

Cas pressed his lips to Dean's forehead. "Just go to sleep, baby. I'm here. I love you."

"Love you, too," Dean murmured, letting his eyes slip shut. He felt the moment the pills kicked in, and let himself drift away on a stream of drug induced haze.

* * *

Cas got up after Dean fell asleep. His husband shifted in the pillows and mumbled something, but didn't wake up, which was exactly was Cas was hoping for. As tired as he was, there was something he needed to take care of before Dean woke up, and he was damn grateful Dean hadn't seen it when they came in the front door.

There was a reason he'd pushed Dean right up the stairs to their bedroom.

In the kitchen, he gathered a trash bag, bucket, and disinfecting cleanser. Cas filled the bucket with hot water. Starting in the hallway outside the bathroom, he scrubbed the splashes of dried blood from the floorboards, moving into the bathroom and wiping down the tiles and the sides of the tub. Turning on the shower, he used the hose to spray down the tub itself.

Once the bathroom was clean, he wiped down all the surfaces of Sam's wheelchair before moving the chair back into Sam's room.

He took the trash outside and shoved it down in the can, putting several other trash bags on top.

Exhausted, he washed his hands and put everything away before double checking that he'd gotten every splash and spot of blood.

Satisfied, he went back to bed.

* * *

Waking up was difficult. There were noises and voices, and Sam knew he was in the hospital.

Once again, they hadn't let him die. Once again, he'd been denied release.

Frustrated, Sam raised his hand to rub his eyes, shocked when he felt the soft cuffs holding him down.

"Good morning, sunshine," a wry voice called from the doorway. Pamela Barnes smiled at him, a Ramones shirt peeking out from beneath her lab coat. "So, I've been wanting you to come see me. This wasn't what I had in mind, kiddo."

"Go away."

"Aw, now, you're gonna hurt my feelings handsome. Ignoring my invitations for months, and now being rude right to my pretty little face. Of course, I've been trying to get your brother to come see me too. What is it with you Winchester boys?"

"Dean can kiss my ass."

Pamela dragged a chair across the floor and plopped into it. "That's not very nice."

"Like you actually give a fuck."

"I do. A lot. Dean's pretty special to me. I'm not supposed to get attached to my clients, but it does happen sometimes."

"Why are you in here? I want to be left the fuck alone."

"Is that why you put your own brother on the no fly list?"

Sam didn't answer. He turned his head away from her, staring out the barred window to his right. "Like a fucking prison," he muttered.

"You know why you're here?"

"Yes. Go psychoanalyze someone else."

"Ooh, you're a salty one, aren't you? I love a good challenge."

"I'm not your fucking challenge," Sam growled. "Get out of my room."

"Well, that's the thing," Pamela said, unruffled as ever. "I'm an attending on this ward. Ok? And you happened to get assigned to me when you came in last night. And taking a razor to your wrists? Well, honey, that signs away a lot of your rights. You, my dear, are stuck with me. Whether you like it or not. We may have to comply with the no visitors list you've posted, but we don't need to comply with your wish to dismiss me. And, if you're going to be an asshole about it, it'll be Dr. Barnes for you, instead of the far more friendlier Pamela." She stood, and smiled. "You want tough love, Sammy-boy? You got it."

She left the room as easily as she'd appeared, leaving Sam with a lot to think about.

* * *

Dean woke to sun trying to peek through the blinds in their room. Cas was snoring softly beside him, one thin ray of sunlight lighting up the arch of his cheekbones. His stomach growled; likely what had woken him, and Dean eased himself out of bed.

Cas was still sleeping after Dean had had a shower, so he dressed quietly and left their room. Downstairs, he wasn't really surprised to find it was well after three in the afternoon. There were no messages on his phone, and he felt a buzz of disappointment that Sam apparently hadn't asked for him. Dean briefly debated between going next door to fetch A.J. or simply going to the hospital on his own.

The hospital won.

"I'm here to see Sam Winchester," he told the nurse at the desk.

"And you are?"

"Dean, his brother."

She nodded and tapped on her computer, frowning at the display. "I'm sorry, but Mr. Winchester has requested that you not be allowed to visit."

"But, I'm his brother. I just - I just want to see him. Please."

"Mr. Winchester, he's made a list of people he doesn't want admitted to the floor, and you're at the top of the list. In cases like this, where the patient is on a locked ward due to psychological issues, we take requests for no visitors very seriously, especially if the patient sites a particular visitor as part of the circumstances for admittance."

"What? That doesn't make any sense. I didn't do this to him." Dean slapped a hand down on the desk. "I just want to see him!"

"I'm sorry," the nurse said firmly, standing her ground.

"Dean?"

Turning from the desk, he caught sight of Pamela crossing the floor towards him, combat boots thunking on the tile floor. His shoulders sagged. "Hey," he muttered.

"I assume you're here to see Sam and just got told he put you on the no visitors list. Don't get offended; all the best people are on that list. He'd put me on it if he could."

"Yeah, but -"

"No buts. C'mon, I'll buy you a cup of horrible coffee and tell you what's going on."

"That's something, I guess."

"I'm great company. You know that." Pamela linked their arms together and led Dean down the corridor. "So how's that beautiful little boy of yours?"

"Good. Growing like a weed."

"Pictures or it didn't happen."

Chuckling, Dean pulled out his phone and scrolled through the dozens of pictures of A.J., Pam oohing and awwing in all the right places.

"He's just a doll. Totally has your nose and mouth. Have his eyes changed?"

"Oh yeah, they're as blue as Cas's. I know you can't really see in the picture. No idea what color his hair is going to be. He lost it all."

Pamela pulled out a chair in the cafeteria and motioned for Dean to sit. "Be right back."

While she was gone, Dean continued scrolling through the pictures. He came across one from the early days of A.J.'s life.

Jess was curled on the couch at Dean's house, A.J. on one arm, Felicity on the other. She had turned and smiled just as Dean took the picture, her blue eyes bright and sparkling.

She was beautiful.

"I miss you. I miss you so much. And not just because Sam's hurting so bad without you. I miss my friend," he said softly.

"Here you go," Pamela said quietly, sitting a tray down. "Got you some pie, too."

"You're the best."

"I do try."

Dean set the phone down on the table and dug into the pie.

"Is that Jess?"

"Mmm, yeah. A.J. was about two weeks old there."

"She's beautiful."

"She was my friend. She wasn't just Sam's wife. She was my friend. We liked all the same TV shows and she had the most wicked dry sense of humor - not to mention she kept Sammy on his toes."

"Dean, are you doing ok?"

"Sure," Dean scoffed. "I'm great."

"Mmm. Y'know, I've been asking you to come into my office and see me for about three weeks now. What's up with giving me the cold shoulder?"

"I've been busy?" Dean said weakly, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

"Right. Fair enough. But you still need to take care of yourself. It probably wouldn't hurt for Cas to see me, too."

"Three for one deal, huh?"

"Stow the bitterness. I'm trying to help."

"Ok, ok," Dean held his hands up in surrender. "So what's going on with Sam?"

"Sam is a very angry man."

"I know."

"He's irrationally angry with you. That's what we're trying to deal with."

"Wow, don't sugar coat it or nothing."

"You've told me many times how much you appreciate me not sugar coating things."

"I know." Dean sipped his coffee and forced himself to take a small bite of the pie. "So, he's mad at me. Did he say why?"

"Nope. Refuses to talk to me. He's been hostile with the staff and spent the night cuffed and sedated."

"Damn."

"Yeah." Pam sipped her own coffee. "But he is going to talk to me, whether he likes it or not."

"He's stubborn."

"So were you."

Dean smiled and finished his coffee and his pie, taking his time and getting every last bit of apple and syrup off the plate.

"Why doesn't he want to see me?" he asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

"He's real angry right now and he's lashing out. Unfortunately, when a person gets to the point where they're so angry they don't know where to put it, it ends up falling on the people who care about them the most. In this case, that's you. He's angry he's still alive, and he blames you for not unplugging his machines."

"But I -"

"I know, honey. I know. He still has a lot to live for, and that's what we need to make him see. It's going to be an uphill climb. He might be in here for a while, which might be a good thing. Don't take this the wrong way," she reached across the table and patted his hand, "but you look like you need a break."

"Yeah," Dean scrubbed his eyes with hand, "it's been pretty rough. And we're swimming in bills and debt right now and I just - I drained my savings account. Cas's is almost gone. Sam and Jess - her life insurance covered a lot of their debts, but I've still got his house. Ugh, I'm so - I don't even know."

"Then go home. There's nothing you can do here. He won't see you right now, so there's no point in hanging around. Go home. Have dinner with your gorgeous husband and that sweet little boy and get a full night's rest. I'll keep working on Sam, and the minute he's willing to see you I will be on the phone. Ok?"

"Yeah. Ok." And really, what other choice did he have?

Pam hugged him goodbye, and Dean was back home before Cas even realized he was gone.

* * *

Two days passed and there was no getting rid of Pamela Barnes. Sam spent most days trying to avoid her in the day room, or hiding in his own room. He didn't want to talk to her and he didn't know what else to say to make that clear.

"He desperately wants to see you," Pamela announced, letting herself into Sam's room.

"Don't you ever knock?"

"Nope. You'd just tell me to go away anyhow."

"I am not in the mood."

"Aw, I'm so sorry." She flipped through some papers. "Dr. Allen says you are flat out refusing to do group and when they do manage to get your ass out there, you sit and stare intimidatingly at the other patients."

"Hmm. Well, they could try leaving me the fuck alone."

"It doesn't work that way and you know it. We have to get to the root of the problem and -"

"The root of the problem? The root of the goddamn problem?!" Sam finally turned from the window, "the root of this problem is that my wife is dead and I am still here and everyone expects me to be  _grateful_  that I'm still fucking  _alive_  when I'd rather be fucking  _dead!_ The root of the problem is that I should have died in that car, or at least in the hospital, but no, no, sweet precious heroic martyr Dean can't live without his baby brother! That's the problem. This is Dean's fault, do you understand? He should have let me go!"

"Sam -"

"You know what? Sure. Send Dean in here. Let Dean see me. I got a coupla things I wanna say to him."

"You are seriously putting the blame on his shoulders. You really want to blame him for this? Why not be angry at the drunk driver who hit you? Or the trucker who couldn't stop in time?"

Sam rolled his chair over to his bed and pulled a book out of his nightstand. "You can't make me talk. You can't make me see Dean. And the second you people let me out of here, I'm going to do it again."

"That's a horrible thing to say. What about your daughters?"

A sharp pain lit up Sam's chest. "They'd be better off without me."

"Would they? If you die, your in-laws will definitely start a custody case against Dean and Cas. With the financial problems those boys are having -"

"What financial problems?"

Pamela sat down cross legged on Sam's bed and tugged at a string on her jeans. "You really don't know?"

"No."

"Well, your insurance didn't cover everything. And you're racking up more bills being in here. You were in a significant amount of debt, most of which Dean has drained his savings account to pay off. But he's still got your mortgage. They sold their house in Hawaii, too.

"I know you want to put all of this on Dean's shoulders - and it's probably a hell of a lot easier then putting it on your own - but it's not fair to him. I'm not going to sit here and say your brother is a perfect person or something - because he's not. But he deserves better." Pamela got back off the bed and walked over to the door, turning to look back at Sam. "He'd go to hell for you. Think about that a while, huh?" She left, closing Sam's door behind her.

* * *

Nine days after he'd been admitted, Sam finally agreed to see Dean.

His brother sat in a chair near his bed picking at his cuticles. He looked lost. Sam had always hated when Dean got that look on his face.

"I'm angry."

Dean startled. "Uh, yeah. Well, I think you've got a right to be."

"I'm angry at you."

"Oh," Dean stared down at the floor.

"I been told it's not rational. But it's there just the same. You should have let me die."

Sucking in a harsh breath, Dean bit his bottom lip. His mouth worked, trying to form words, but nothing came out. He looked out the window, stared down at his hands, blinked his eyes hard. "I um. I couldn't - I couldn't do that, Sammy."

"Why? Because it was what was best for me? Or what was best for  _you_?"

"Don't -"

"I don't want to be here. I want to be dead. This isn't fair, and you took that option from me. You didn't let me choose."

"You were in a coma -"

"And I should have stayed there. I've asked around. You were advised to turn my machines off and you didn't."

"Your girls -"

"Would have been fine with you."

Dean shook his head. "They wouldn't be with me. Jenna and Lee would have fought me for custody and probably won."

"I had paperwork -"

"That they could've fought. You're a damn lawyer, Sam! You know anything can be fought with the right kind of money behind it." Dean huffed. "You know what? Fine, be angry, but I don't for one minute regret not turning your damn machines off. You're still fucking alive! Your daughters aren't orphans!"

"If I'd died, mine and Jess's combined life insurance would have paid off everything and you wouldn't be swimming in debt and hospital bills!"

"You think I care about the fucking money? I don't care about the fucking money! I care about you! My baby brother. Do you really think I could have just - just - shit, Sammy, if the situation had been reversed, would you have unplugged me?"

"Yes." Sam folded his hands on his lap.

"No, you -" Dean paled, then turned slightly green. "I don't - no, Sammy. You wouldn't have done that."

"Yes, I would have. And you should have." He turned his wheelchair away from Dean and stared out the window. Dean was breathing harshly behind him, likely crying. Sam refused to look. "Please leave. I don't know why I asked you here in the first place. Just go."

"Sammy -" Dean whispered.

"Go."

Dean sniffled as he gathered his things. "I don't regret it," he said softly, voice breaking. "I will never regret it. You're my brother and I would walk through fire for you. I'd do anything for you. And even if you hate me for the rest of your life," he chuckled bitterly, "well, at least you're alive to hate me."

The door opened, then closed.

"That's just it," Sam said to the empty room. "I don't hate you."

He sighed heavily.

"It would be easier if I could."

* * *

The interview aired on a Tuesday night - the same night Dean had finally gotten to see Sam. Cas came home from work at the restaurant to find Dean walking the floor with a very cranky A.J., both of them in tears.

"What happened?" he asked quietly, taking A.J. from Dean.

"It was horrible. He hates me. He hates that I didn't unplug him. And he's so angry. Pamela says at least another week, if not longer, because he's still threatening to kill himself."

"Jesus." Cas walked the baby out to the kitchen, gathering everything he needed to make a bottle.

"I can't get A.J. to settle down. I dunno, maybe he's picking up on how upset I am. I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing." Dean sank onto to the couch.

"Where are the girls?"

"Ellen. She wanted to take them to get pictures done and some new clothes and stuff. and just decided to keep the overnight."

"Ok." Cas made the bottle one-handed, joining Dean on the couch.

"I tried to feed him. He didn't want it."

"Alright. I'm going to change his diaper and see what happens. Like you said, maybe he's just upset because you're upset." He looked over at Dean, taking in his bloodshot, deeply circled eyes. "You should go upstairs right now and take a nap."

"Right. Like I could sleep." Dean handed Cas a diaper and leaned back against the couch.

Cas unsnapped A.J.'s onesie. "He's dry." He wrapped a waffle weave blanket around the little boy and cuddled him close to his chest. "Are you hungry, my little friend?" He teased A.J.'s lips with the nipple of the bottle, letting a little of the formula drip into his mouth. A.J. turned his head and latched right on.

"I offered him one not five minutes ago and he wasn't having it."

"I'm telling you, he picked up on your stress."

"I guess so." Dean leaned over, laying his head on Cas's shoulder. "I'm so tired."

"Then lay down. Either down here, or upstairs, but lay down. Get some rest."

Dean nodded and rolled over to the other side of the couch, laying his head on the arm rest. By the time Cas finished feeding A.J., Dean was long gone, snoring softly.

"Daddy is sound asleep," Cas told A.J. He stood with the baby, rocking him softly in his arms until he burped. "That's my boy." A.J. blinked sleepy blue eyes at him as Cas lowered him into the portable crib. "Sleep well, my little angel," he murmured, pulling a blanket over his son's tiny form.

Cas turned back to Dean, frowning at the troubled face the man wore even as he slept. "You deserve better," he said quietly, unfolding a blanket from the back of the couch and covering his husband. Cas ran a hand through Dean's hair, smiling as Dean leaned into the touch even in his sleep. He watched him a minute more before turning to grab his car keys off the counter.

Cas wrote a short note and left it on the coffee table, leaving the house quietly when he was done.

He was a man on a mission.

* * *

Dean woke to A.J.'s soft snuffles. He sat up on the couch. "Cas?" There was no answer. He stood, stretching, his arms a little sore from the awkward angle he'd slept in. "Cas?" he called again.

A.J. let out a little mewling sound. Dean reached down into the portable crib, scooping A.J. into his arms. His little boy cast him a happy, gummy smile and cooed. He then attempted to shove his whole fist into his mouth.

"Dude, I know you're teething and stuff, but I have better things than your fists." Walking out to the kitchen, he retrieved a teething ring from the fridge and handed it to the baby. "There, cut loose." A.J. took the ring and gummed it. "Atta boy. Now where did Papa run off to?" The answer was on the coffee table on a small square of paper. "Back by nine? Wonder what he's doing. Let's give Papa a call." The call went right to voice mail, however, and Dean frowned. "Well, that's encouraging."

Dean settled down on the couch with the baby. He picked up the remote, turning the TV on.

" _...and tonight, we're finally going to hear Chef Castiel's side of the story."_

"Aw, shit, I forgot about this."

" _Chef Castiel has been incredibly tight lipped about the whole liaison…"_

"There was no liaison," Dean muttered.

" _So I was rather surprised when he agreed to an interview, albeit nearly three months after the story broke."_ Katie on screen smiled at the camera. _"How are you, Chef?"_

" _I'm well,"_ Cas smiled, looking like a million bucks. _"How are you?"_

" _Very good. How's Dean? I understand he'll be joining us later."_

" _Yes. He's doing as well as he can be under the circumstances. There's a lot of stress on his shoulders at the moment. His brother's health continues to be a merry go round of sorts."_

" _Understandable. And your son?"_

" _Growing like a weed, and as lovely as his father."_

Dean grinned. "You hear that? Papa thinks we're lovely." He kissed A.J.'s forehead.

Katie made small talk with Cas a moment more before getting down to the nitty gritty. The interview seemed largely unedited, and for that, Dean was grateful. He wanted people to get the real story, not some wildly spun version.

" _And what was going through your head when you finally reached your brother's home?"_

" _I was barely hanging on at that point. The drugs in my system were so strong, I'm not even sure how I made it into the elevator. If the doorman hadn't recognized me, he probably would have called the cops. The last thing I really remember was looking down at Gabe's rug and thinking how much I hated the damn thing. It's a very ugly rug."_

Katie laughed politely. _"And then?"_

" _Then I woke up in the hospital, absolutely terrified that my marriage was over. I was prepared to go home and explain everything to Dean, to beg if I had to, but I doubted he'd believe me. I'm not sure I would have, had the situation been reversed."_ Cas took a deep breath.  _"No, that's not true. I would have believed Dean. He's such a good man. I don't think I've ever known a better one."_

Dean's eyes filled with tears.

" _What do you find truly remarkable about your husband?"_

" _I don't know where to start except perhaps his remarkable capacity for love. Everything that's been thrown at him in life, all the abuse he's suffered, and Dean still loves, still gives everything he has with his whole heart."_

" _You're utterly in love with him."_

" _Yes."_ Cas smiled. " _Yes, I am."_

At the end of the interview, Katie herself was interviewed by Matt Lauer.

" _So how did you feel about Chef Castiel's story?"_

" _Matt, it was beyond clear to me that Chef Bartholomew created the events of that night for publicity. Dean and Castiel are so clearly in tune with each other, and so clearly in love with each other - there's no more room in their lives for anyone else. I think it showed once Dean joined Castiel for the interview just how much of a team they are. They held hands the entire time and shared secret looks and private smiles. Honestly, at times I felt I was intruding on something very special. Although their money situation with Sam's health expenses and Castiel's lost income from losing his show have become an issue, I think their marriage is strong enough to overcome this obstacle. They really are a remarkable couple."_

" _What do you think of Dean's challenge to the paparazzi to release the picture of Castiel punching John Bartholomew?"_

" _Well, that was a rather interesting idea, so we made some calls and were able to obtain the following images."_

Dean sat up on the couch, staring at the TV.

" _As you can see, the first image is the one that circulated right away - of the two chefs kissing, but then there's this one,"_  - Cas drawing back in shock -  _"and the next several where they're clearly arguing,"_  - Cas's face was red and angry, his hands balled into fists at his sides -  _"and then of course, the one Dean challenged the paparazzi to deliver,"_  - and there it was, several crystal clear shots of Cas driving his fist into John's face.

Dean grinned, a sparkling rush of triumph making his heart pound. "Hell yeah," he whispered, not wanting to wake the baby in his arms.

" _Looks pretty clear to me. I think the media was wrong about Chef Cas."_

" _Oh, I agree completely, Matt. And I think perhaps the Food Network needs to offer Chef Cas an apology."_

" _Looks like it. Alright, next up -"_

Dean shut off the TV. This was fantastic. This was amazing.

His cell phone started buzzing frantically, multiple texts hitting all at once. But there was only one person he wanted to talk to.

"Where the hell are you, Cas?"

  
  



	18. Mea Culpa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! Woohoo!! Maybe 2-3 more chapters and we'll put this one to bed!

* * *

Cas pulled the Corvette into a spot at Lawrence General and sighed. He ran the words he planned to say over and over in his head, but he was still a bit nervous. Having a confrontation with Sam wasn't something he wanted to do, but he couldn't let Sam continue to run roughshod over his brother's heart - especially when Dean would continue to allow it.

Upstairs, he found Pamela waiting for him just outside the Mental Health ward, right where she said she'd meet him. A half-smile graced her pretty face.

"You sure about this?"

Cas nodded. "Yes."

"He may not be happy to see you."

"I understand."

Pamela shook her head. "These Winchester boys - they are so damn hard to reach."

"Tell me something I don't know."

Swiping her badge over a sensor on the door, Pamela grinned. "I guess you'd have firsthand knowledge, huh?" She pulled open the door to the ward, motioning for Cas to pass through. "How is Dean doing?"

"He's ok. Sam hurt him this afternoon, but he's ok. He seems to understand that Sam's irrational and unhappy, but I know he's struggling not to take it personally."

"That is actually one of Dean's biggest issues in general and something we've had to constantly revisit."

"I know."

They walked in silence down the corridor towards Sam's room.

"So, I'm going to sit on a chair outside the room because technically this is well past visiting hours for this ward, but since Sam didn't put you on the no fly list, I say go for it." Pamela settled in a chair outside Sam's door. "Good luck," she smiled, waving towards Sam's door with a flourish. Cas pushed open the door.

"I'm not tired and I don't want a stupid sleeping pill," Sam complained from where he sat, hunched over in his wheelchair and staring out the window.

"A few months ago, you told me I was going to give Dean a nervous breakdown." Sam turned in surprise. "Read me the riot act about how what happened to me wasn't his fault, how you were sick of seeing him cry. Why do you think I'm here tonight?"

"Cas -"

"This isn't about him, so why do you insist on making it about him?"

"I didn't -"

"You did," Cas said firmly, "when you told him he should have let you die."

"Dammit, that's not -"

"You knew damn well what you were saying. Don't sit here and try to say you didn't." Cas dropped into the closest chair. "And now he's at home, beating himself up, trying to figure out how he could have done a better job of helping you adjust, helping you get better. I just can't understand why you think turning your machines off would have ever been an option for him."

"I would have -"

"I call bullshit. You look me in the eye and tell me you would have let him die. Tell me you would have let him go."

Sam held eye contact, his mouth working as he tried to form the words. He sighed, letting his eyes drop to stare at the floor.

"You would have done the same thing he did. Kept a constant vigil at his bedside, begged, pleaded with him to wake up. Don't try to lie to me and tell me you wouldn't have."

"Cas -"

"He deserves better. He has always deserved better, and he's managed to convince himself he deserves the boot scrapings he gets. It has to stop. You're miserable? You're unhappy? Fine. Leave Dean out of it."

"You think this is easy for me? You think it's a picnic to wake up every morning and wish you hadn't? I'm tired of living. I'm tired. I want to - I want Jess."

"I get that, Sam. But Jess isn't coming back and there is nothing you can do about it. And she would hate that you've just given up. It would make her sick. It's like this - you're going to have to make a decision - either spend the rest of your life longing for things you will never have again, or make the most of what you have left. Jess left you a legacy in those two girls. Remember that you are all they have left. Remember that." Cas stood. "Figure out what you want, but know this - I'm not going to let you hurt Dean anymore. And if that means we have to find someplace else for you to be right now, then fine. But I'll protect him with all that I have. Even if it means protecting him from you."

"Cas -"

Turning on his heel, Cas left the room before Sam had a chance to say anything else. Pamela met him outside the door. "How'd it go?"

"No idea. Hopefully I got through. I'm going home to my husband. Thank you for all your help, Pamela."

She gave him a brief hug. "No prob, bud."

Cas started to walk away, but stopped and turned back to look at Pamela. "I hope I didn't just give Sam a setback. That wasn't my intention at all."

"I dunno, I think maybe a little tough love is exactly what he needs right now." Pamela reached out and squeezed his arm. "Don't sweat it, champ." She crossed her arms over her chest. "And I was serious about you coming to see me, too. Alright? Call me. Make an appointment."

"I don't think I need -"

"Aren't you the same Cas Winchester that spent three weeks in bed after the whole Bartholomew scandal broke?"

Cas blushed. "Yes, but -"

"No buts. Make an appointment."

"Alright," he acquiesced.

"Good boy. Go home. Make love to that gorgeous man."

Smiling, Cas walked to the elevators, throwing Pamela a wave as he boarded.

* * *

"Where were you?!" Dean exclaimed when Cas came through the door. "The interview just aired and it was amazing - they aired the pictures of you punching that dick!"

"Did they?" Cas smiled and pulled Dean in for a kiss. "That's very exciting."

"Yeah, but where were you? I've been worried sick. Fell asleep and then woke up and you weren't here and -"

"Dean, I'm sorry," Cas said, reaching for his hands. "I needed to go speak with someone and it took a little longer than I thought it might. My apologies. Are you hungry? I could make you something to eat."

Dean frowned as Cas pulled his hands to his chest. "Why do I feel like you're hiding something?"

"I'm not." Releasing Dean's hands, Cas crossed the floor into the kitchen. "I went to see Sam," he told Dean.

"Oh."

Cas had his back turned to Dean, digging in the fridge for pizza dough and toppings. Now that it was done, and everything was out in the open, Cas found himself surprisingly hungry. He preheated the oven and got to work chopping veggies. It took him a moment to realize that Dean was still standing there, looking utterly lost.

Setting his knife down, Cas crossed the floor and wrapped Dean in his arms. "What is it? Are you angry?"

"No," Dean murmured. "I don't - I don't know how to feel. I don't know -" He sighed and shuddered in Cas's hold. "Sammy, the interview - it's all so much at once and I just feel -  _off balance_."

"What can I do to make it better?"

"Honestly?" Dean dropped his head onto Cas's shoulder. "I don't even fucking know."

"Why don't you go back to work?"

That got his attention. Dean stood up straight and stared at Cas. "Really?"

"Yes. I can handle things around here for a while, and I know you miss it. Go back. Go beat on that Roadrunner you were so excited about a few months ago."

"It's been almost six months since I went in. I doubt Benny even needs me anymore." Dean stared down at the floor.

"None of that," Cas told him, cupping his chin and bringing him back up to eye level. "They still need you. You're still wanted." He kissed Dean sweetly. "Stop doubting yourself. It's still your business, and you still belong in the captain's chair. Alright?" Dean nodded. "Good. Now come help me make some pizza, and when we're done, I'm going to take you upstairs and fuck you silly."

Dean blushed and grinned. "Alrighty, then."

* * *

It was Monday before Dean actually managed to get back to work, but pulling the Impala into the Winchester and Sons lot felt like coming home. It had been a long six days, but he hadn't gone back to work sooner because he hoped Sam would ask for him.

He didn't.

Resigned, Dean got up early Monday morning, ate the delicious oatmeal Cas made him and left for work, coffee mug in hand. He got to work early enough to be the first one there, other than the night watchman. Dean settled in at his desk, smiling at the tidy stack of mail -

Wait, that was a lot of mail. Dean picked up the first envelope and slit it open, pulling out the card inside. A hundred dollar bill fell out.

"What the hell?" he muttered, opening the card.

_Dear Dean and Cas,_

_I'm a big fan. I've been watching both your shows since day one. I'm very sorry about everything that happened to you, and I know what it's like to have medical bills you can't pay. I just wish I could send more. All my best to Sam and the kids._

_Sincerely,_

_Jini from North Carolina_

"Holy shit," Dean breathed.

The rest of the envelopes were much the same; donations and heartfelt stories, people wanting to help them.

"There's one more," Jo told him as she entered the office. "I just had to sign for it. Good to see you sitting there, boss."

"Good to be back," he smiled. "Jo, there's like $4500 here. This is insane."

"No it's not. People love you guys." She handed him the Priority Mail envelope. "This one has me curious."

Dean read the address. "Wounded Warrior. Huh." He opened it and pulled out a letter and a check - for $7500. "Holy shit. Holy shit," he sputtered.

"Read the letter!"

"Dear Dean - in the last several years, you've done so much for Wounded Warrior. You've sent regular generous donations, profits from the tee shirts you sold for us, you've raised awareness and helped wounded vets in your area. I know you'd never ask us for help, so we're just sending it anyway. The board got together and raised some money for you. Thank you for everything, and we hope this helps with Sam's medical bills. Don't ever hesitate to get in touch if we can help in any way. Sincerely, Doug Nelson."

Dean stared down at the letter in his hands, not at all surprised to find his eyes welling. "I can't even believe this," he muttered. "This is unbelievable."

Jo reached out and wrapped him in a hug. "No it's not. You're one of the good guys, Dean. Always have been. You give and you give and you never ask for anything in return. It's about time someone gave back."

"Jo - this - this will help so much. But I feel so wro-"

"Shut up! Don't you dare feel guilty. I'll kick your fuckin' ass!"

  
Dean chuckled. "Yeah. Yeah."

"Also, if Cas didn't tell you - since the interview aired, Pearly Gates has been mobbed as fuck. We went over there Wednesday to get food for the office and ended up waiting almost two hours. Things are on the upswing, dude. Deal with it." She strutted back out to the front part of the office, leaving Dean to contemplate the generosity spread out before him on the desk.

"Unbelievable," he whispered. A soft smile tilted his lips.

"Well, hello there, brotha. Didn't think I'd see you today."

"Hey, Benny!"

"Jo told me 'bout your windfall. Some mighty good people in this world." He leaned against the door jamb. "Might point out that you're one of 'em."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered, feeling his cheeks flame. "C'mon, let's go peek at that Roadrunner."

* * *

By noon, Dean was neck deep in the Roadrunner - well, he was under her, yanking out old exhaust pipes and the battered, worn springs and struts. Parts littered the ground around him, and he was filthy - but he was the happiest and most content he'd been in a couple of months.

" _Dean, come back to the office please_ ," Jo's voice called over the intercom.

"Dammit. Just when it was gettin' good," he muttered.

"She ain't goin' nowheres. No worries," Benny said, patting the car's roof and handing Dean a rag to wipe his hands. "Feels good, don't it?"

"Hell, yeah. Man does it ever. I gotta say though, you did a helluva job while I was gone. Could probably just sell everything to you and walk away."

"Naw," Benny grinned, lifting his hat to scratch his hair. "I don't want to run the place. I'm more than happy to let you do that. We really missed you 'round here."

"Really?"

Benny nodded. "Really."

They stood there and smiled at each other a minute longer.

" _Dean, please come back to the office as soon as possible._ "

"Ok, better go on 'fore she gets all cranky."

"It's funny. She's the size of a munchkin and we're all terrified of her."

"As you should be!" Madison yelled as she walked by.

Benny and Dean both laughed. "That's the damn truth, righ' there." Benny patted his shoulder before turning his attention back to the Roadrunner.

"Yeah." Dean walked towards the door, then stopped and looked back and smiled. All around him was activity - everyone working their asses off. This place was as much home as his sweet little house. "It's good to be back," he murmured, before leaving the warmth of the shop.

* * *

"Take him, please," Cas said, thrusting A.J. towards Dean.

"Uh, ok," Dean took the baby and grinned as his son cooed happily at him. "Hey, little dude."

Cas plucked Felicity from her carrier. "Wow, you stink little girl."

"Not that I mind, not in the least, but what are you guys doing here?" He smiled at Mari who blew a raspberry at him.

"Apparently Balthazar is on his way here and wants to talk to both of us. I told him to meet me at the restaurant, but the place is standing room only."

"What does he want?"

"I don't know - hand me the wipes please?" Cas undid Felicity's little outfit. "Good lord. That's a lot of stink from someone so little." He took the wipes from Dean and continued his task.

Dean watched him, a little flame of contented warmth blooming in his chest. He found it odd that these were the moments that triggered the most intense feelings of love for him. The simple, mundane moments of everyday life that reminded him of how good he really had it.

Smiling, he kissed the top of his son's head.

"Hello, darlings - dear god, what is that horrible smell?"

"It's called baby poo," Dean grinned.

"Ah. One of the many reasons I'll never have children - at least children that I know of. I was quite wild in the seventies, but then again, everyone was."

"Hello, Balthazar," Cas greeted him dryly. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you a preteen in the seventies?"

"Semantics, Cassie dear. I was an early bloomer."

Dean barked a laugh. "That I believe."

"Of course." Cas finished cleaning Felicity and set her back in her carrier. "So what do we owe the pleasure?"

Balthazar dropped into Dean's desk chair and spun around a few times. "I rather like this chair."

"Thanks. Made it myself with a repurposed bucket seat from a '76 Monte Carlo."

"Very clever, Mr. Winchester. I'm impressed with your ingenuity. Make me one, please?"

"Sure. Provided I can find a donor. What color do you want it? My upholstery guys can work some real magic with leather and naugahyde."

"Hmm, perhaps black with lime green trim?"

Dean sat AJ down in his carrier. "Oh yeah, we can definitely do that," he said, reaching around Balthazar for a notepad and pen. "And actually, if you've got a favorite classic car -"

"I'm partial to the '62 MG MKII."

"Of course you are, you damn limey," Dean said with a grin. "We can -"

"Not to interrupt," Cas interjected.

"Oh yeah," Dean blushed. "Sorry."

"Ah, right. Anyway," Balth grinned. "The network sent me to issue a mea culpa."

"A what?"

"A we're sorry. We were wrong. Please, darling Castiel, grace the halls of the Food Network once more," Balthazar intoned dramatically.

"They want me back?"

"Obviously. And you get to name the terms. They just want your beautiful face on air again. It might have something to do with insane of amount of tiny cars and angel statuettes they've received since the interview aired. Were you aware that you and Dean-o had a fandom?"

"Ok, you totally lost me," Dean chimed in. "What the hell is a fandom?"

"Are you kidding?"

"Well, no, I mean, I know what fandom is - I'm friends with Charlie - but why cars and angels?"

"Cars for you, angels for me. My show is called  _Taste of Heaven_ , after all."

"Oh."

"Anyway," Balthazar continued, "between that and the petition your fans started, the Network has seen the error of their ways. And they want you back. Bob told me anything you wanted."

"Huh." Cas seemed to ponder Balthazar's words.

"What babe? We need the coin and -"

"Well, actually, you don't need the money."

Both of them turned to stare at Balthazar.

"I'm quite amazed by your fandom. They contacted your brother, Gabriel, and set up a fund through him to help with Sam's bills. At last count, it had a solid $350,000 in there."

"What -" Dean stammered.

"And with Kohl's' ready to re-sign your product line contract, yes, Cassie, you can absolutely call the shots."

Dean stood there with his mouth open, watching as a triumphant smirk formed on his husband's face.

"Hmm. Then here's my demands," Cas said with a grin.

* * *

The anger faded.

It took a while. Sam lost track of his days, but he was aware of the anger slipping away. Dean didn't come to visit - of course, he didn't ask for him, either, and he guessed after the last time, Dean wouldn't come unless asked. In group, he sat in his wheelchair, listening to the others talk about and work out their issues. He watched them improve and get discharged, one by one.

Sleep was elusive. Even when he was given something to help him rest, it usually didn't work; he'd reach a state of sleepy lethargy, but never quite drop off.

"What is it?" Pamela asked him. "What's going on with you? The anger, I understood. The sadness, fine. But now we've reached this stage where you've just utterly checked out on me. It's almost like you're sitting here hoping you'll just fade away into nothing. Is that truly what you want? You want to die still?"

"I don't know," he mumbled, voice hoarse from disuse. "I thought it's what I wanted - now I just don't know. I don't know."

"Sam, I'd love to be able to send you home, but you're not improving. The other doctors and I have been talking about some possible long term arrangements."

"A loony bin?"

"Psychiatric hospital."

"A loony bin," he said defeatedly.

"What else would you have us do? At this point, it's clear home isn't the answer."

"I'm tired." He turned away.

Pamela frowned. "Alright."

He laid in bed that night and stared at the ceiling, feeling the drugs coursing through his veins. God, but he wanted to sleep. Wanted to close his eyes and drift off and not see Jess -

Jess.

Sam closed his eyes and let himself remember.

Their first date - he thought he'd impress her. Tried to make spaghetti, got distracted by the way the late afternoon sun streaming through the windows turned her hair to spun gold and let the pot boil dry. She'd laughed, and dialed for pizza.

The night he asked her to marry him - he'd taken her into San Francisco and they'd walked through Chinatown. There was a parade, with firecrackers and a dragon, but he only had eyes for Jess. He'd been shopping for a ring, but when she looked up at him, stars in her eyes, he'd awkwardly blurted out  _marry me_.

The day they got married - Dean slapping his shoulder and telling him she was a lucky girl, but Sam disagreeing -  _he_  was the lucky one. She'd worn her hair down, and a simple white dress - she was so beautiful.

And the day he met Cas for the first time, that was the day Jess told him she was pregnant, he was going to be a daddy. The day Mari was born - the day Felicity was born -

Tears were streaming down his face. His girls. His sweet baby girls. How would they ever be able to look at him with anything other than hatred -

Once they realized he killed their mother.

Sam gulped, tried desperately to swallow a sob.

He'd killed her. He'd killed Jessica. This was his fault.

Sam could be mad at Dean, mad at the doctors - but this was his, all his.

He killed Jessica.

* * *

Sam had been drifting, not asleep or really awake, when he heard voices outside his door.

"No, he hasn't asked for you, but he's scaring me. I can't seem to get through anymore, and last night he was so hysterical we had to drug him. I'm worried. I think he's giving up."

Dean's voice - "why do you think I can help?" He sounded tired, defeated.

"Because at the end of the day, you're still his big brother."

Whatever Dean said next was muffled, and Sam rolled over, away from the door.

His heart hurt. His head hurt from the drugs and from crying all night. Sam wanted to sleep so badly.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice held a tremor of anxiousness in it.

Sam didn't respond. He heard Dean shuffling behind him, removing a jacket. A chair scuttled across the floor, creaking as Dean sat.

"Are you sleeping?"

"I don't sleep much," he said bitterly.

"Oh."

An awkward silence filled the room, broken only by the sounds of Dean fidgeting.

"Pamela asked me to come," he said finally. "She says you had a rough night. I wanna help, I just uh - I don't really know how, but I'm here. You can yell at me, scream at me, whatever."

A tear slipped out of Sam's eye and trailed down his nose, dripping off the tip and onto the sheets.

"I can leave if you'd rather I - I um - shit." Sam could tell by the sound that Dean was doing that thing he did when he didn't know what to do or say - rubbing a hand over his face like he was trying to scrub it clean. "I'm worried about you. I miss having you around. Kids miss you. I mean, damn, Mari asks about you every day and she's managed to convince herself you're not coming home. I can't bring her here - so for all she knows, you're gone. Doesn't matter how many times I tell her that's not true."

The tears were flowing in earnest now, and Sam fought to control his breathing, hoping that Dean couldn't tell how wrecked he was.

"I hate to - I mean, this is probably stirring up a hornet's nest - but Jess would hate this so much, Sammy. She'd hate that you just fucking gave up." There was a note of anger in Dean's voice now. "You're stronger than this, although I know you don't believe that. Those girls need you. I'm a substitute, and a shitty one at that. I'm not you. They want you. They want their dad. Fuck," Dean muttered, "I don't even know what else to say."

"I killed her," Sam whispered.

"What?"

Rolling to face his brother, Sam shuddered. "I killed her."

"Oh, Sammy, no you didn't. It wasn't you."

"Yes it was. I was driving. She was singing and I looked over at her, I wasn't watching the road. I killed her."

"No, Sammy," Dean said firmly. "It wasn't you. That dude was drunk as a skunk in the middle of the damn day. He came across a fifteen foot wide grassy median and hit you. Even if you had been paying closer attention, he still would have hit you. And the truck? There was no way you could have avoided that. It was an accident, Sammy. It's not your fault. It will never be your fault."

"Dean -"

"No. It's not." Dean lifted himself from the chair and got on his knees, his face level with Sam's. "Look at me."

Sam obeyed.

"One of the hardest things I ever had to do in my life was let go of the idea that I killed my friends in Afghanistan. It's so hard, when you feel like it's your fault. It's hard. I know that, Sammy. But I also know you didn't kill your wife, just like I didn't kill Andy." He reached out and ran his fingers through Sam's hair. "You still have so much to live for. Please don't give up."

Sam nodded, unable to get words out around the lump in his throat.

"I'll go now, let you rest, ok?"

Shaking his head furiously, he reached out and latched onto Dean's wrist. "Stay," he rasped. "Please stay."

Dean patted Sam's hand. "Ok."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: As far as I know, Doug Nelson is not a real person with Wounded Warrior.


	19. Ten Steps Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last. Enjoy and thanks for coming this far. We're almost there.

Another day, another attempt at group therapy.

Sam had parked his wheelchair at the edge of the group, and he sat and listened to the others talk. Pam and Dean had both encouraged him to open up in group, saying that he would feel better once he got everything off his chest. He'd attended two group sessions so far, and did his best to keep an open mind, but he just wasn't ready to open his mouth.

The session wrapped and Sam wheeled himself back to his room. Dean would be in to visit shortly, and he knew his brother would be disappointed that he hadn't shared anything. Parking the chair under the window, he stared out into a rainy Kansas afternoon.

"I'm a damn failure," he muttered, eyes burning.

Three sessions with the group and he couldn't open his mouth. The others talked so frankly about what they were going through, how they felt, and Sam could form the words in his head, but he couldn't get them past his lips. He wanted to talk. He needed to.

Frustrated, he dropped his face into his hands. His door opened a few minutes later.

"Hey," Dean said softly. "You alright?"

Sam shook his head. "Not really," he muttered. "I tried to go to group - I've gone three times actually, but I couldn't open my damn mouth. I don't know what to say, or how to start talking, and I just sit there like a lump. Fuckin' useless."

"You're not useless. Dude, it took me eight years and almost losing Cas to deal with my shit. Not to mention my business and my car going up in flames. At least you're trying. I locked it all down and pretended it didn't happen." The bed springs squeaked as Dean sat down. "Gotta not be so hard on yourself. I mean, jeez, you just started coming around this week. It's all good."

"Yeah. Ok." Sam rubbed his eyes. "Fuck, I'm tired."

"Still not sleeping?"

"Nope. Pam's going to try something different on me tonight, but I'm kinda like how many pills do I have to take to be normal? It bugs me." He sighed. "That's probably dumb."

"No, it's not dumb. I resisted being medicated, too, but in the end, it really helped a lot."

"Huh."

"What?"

"Nothing - just thought you were the perfect patient."

Dean outright snorted. "Really? Me? Even after I finally admitted that I wanted help, I was still a terrible patient. I fought Pam on pretty much every decision she made about my care, I'd skip doses of my meds, I'd argue with Cas, yeah. I was a jerk."

"Oh. I didn't know that. I guess - I was an hour away and kinda wasn't much help, was I?"

"You were plenty of help. Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Pretend like you're not the best brother I could ask for." Dean reached over and patted Sam's hand. "I know this looks dark and bleak and you think you're never going to be ok, but you will. You'll get better. You're the strongest guy I know."

"'m not," Sam muttered, tears building.

"Yes, you are."

"Pretty sure that's you."

"Nah, totally you."

Sam chuckled. "We're both idiots."

"At least we agree on that."

* * *

"Sam? You look like you have something you want to say." Pamela smiled encouragingly across the circular table.

"I'm um, I'm trying to come up with the words, to be honest."

"Why don't you start with why you're here?"

Sam swallowed. "Well, a couple of weeks ago -" he looked up at Pam, surprised. "Has it really been two weeks?"

"Yes."

"Huh. Anyway," he began again, "I lost my wife in October. We were in a car accident on 70 and -" he swallowed hard again. "She was my whole world. My life." Tears burned his eyes. "Maybe I don't know how to live without her. I guess I just decided I'd be better off if I joined her. I um, I hid some razors in my brother's bathroom." He held up his scarred wrists. "They found me in time. Not sure how I feel about that, to be honest. I still - I still -" he blinked, and the tears rolled down his face. "I miss her so much. And I know it's stupid, in light of her death, but I want my fucking leg back, too. I want my life back. I'm never going to get my life back though. This is permanent and there's some part of me that just can't accept that she's gone and won't be back and I won't - I won't -" he choked back a sob, "I'm n-never g-going to be n-normal again. And one day, my daughters are going to wake up and realize I killed their mother. They'll h-hate me."

"No, they won't."

Sam looked up in surprise. A young woman with a bandage on her neck sat near Pam.

"How do you know that?" he asked softly.

"My dad was killed in an accident. My mom was driving. It wasn't her fault, just like it wasn't yours. And my brother and I never hated her for his death. It was an accident. Did you deliberately wreck the car?"

"N-no…a drunk driver hit us."

"Then why would they blame you? You were faultless. You lost your leg. Hell, it's probably a miracle that you didn't die, too."

"Marin has a good point, Sam. One I'm pretty sure your brother has made, too."

"Yeah. He has." Sam swiped at the tears that were still falling. "I don't know how to stop blaming myself. I don't."

"It's a process. The more you talk about this, the more you open up, the more you'll come to terms with what you're feeling and how to deal with it. Alright?"

He nodded.

"Ok, I think it's about time for lunch and individual counseling. Sam, I'm going to start with you, ok?"

"Ok."

The rest of the group dispersed, Marin laying a gentle hand on his shoulder as she walked past. Pamela took the handles of the wheelchair and pushed Sam into an office.

"You talked," she said. "I'm so proud of you."

"Yeah, I'm kinda proud of me, too."

"How'd you sleep last night?"

"Better," Sam smiled. "I think I slept at least six hours without waking up."

"Any nightmares?"

"Yeah. But it was just of the accident. It wasn't that one with Jess where she - where she -"

Pamela reached across and laid a hand on Sam's shoulder. "It'll pass. It will. I promise you. Now, how are you feeling about going home?"

"I'm not sure. I want to, but I don't want to be more work for Dean."

"Sam Winchester, you know Dean doesn't feel that way. He doesn't see you as work."

"He's so overwhelmed -"

"No, he's not. Things are going better for him and he's back to work. He's happy to help you. And Amelia says you're going to be fitted for the prosthetic soon, so you'll be able to get up and about. But even if you weren't, you're not helpless. There's plenty you can do for yourself."

"I know. I just - I have to accept this, and there's some part of me that feels like acceptance is giving up."

"It's not. It's adjusting to what you have now and moving forward. I think if you keep going the way you have, the improvements you've made this week, I think we can likely discharge you on Wednesday. That's what I'm getting at. Do you want to go home?"

Sam leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. "I think so," he said finally. "I miss my daughters."

"What's your roadblock?"

"Dean for one. I don't want to add to his stress, and I know," he held his hands up defensively, "he doesn't see that way. I do know that."

"Ok," Pam nodded. "Anything else?"

"Well, yeah. I don't want to get any further on Cas's bad side than I already am, and I'm worried I'm not stable enough to be around my girls, and -"

"Sam. Sweetheart. Number one, Cas isn't even mad at you. He was frustrated. You put in him a position where he felt like he had to charge in and defend Dean's honor. You realize that, right? Dean is everything to Cas. And Dean took what was happening to you very personally, so when you rejected him and pushed him away, it sent Dean into a downward spiral which only served to ignite the very fierce alpha male living inside your brother in law."

"Yeah," Sam chuckled softly.

"But why do you think you're too unstable to be around your daughters?"

"I dunno. I'm still on shaky ground and I don't want them to see me upset or crying -"

"Stop right there," Pamela held up her hand and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "You don't think it's ok for them to see you cry?" she asked, an incredibly sad expression in her eyes.

"I don't want them to feel sad or upset -"

"Sam, don't you realize they're mourning their mother, too? While Felicity might be too young to realize Jessica's gone, Mari is very aware. If she saw you cry, and you told her it was because you missed Jess, it would actually help her. It would validate her own feelings of loss."

"Seems like it would just make her sadder."

"If you're expecting everything to be all bright and rosy just because you don't show tears, you've got another think coming. Your daughter needs to know her sadness is acceptable. And you holding back will make her feel like she's wrong. It'll lead to her repressing her emotions and guess where she'll be years from now? Sitting in a therapist's chair trying to piece her life back together."

"Ouch," Sam murmured.

"I know, honey. But if I can't tough love you, who can? It's my job, after all. And you're not the first Winchester I've had to drag into the light."

That comment made a very real smile form on Sam's face. "Guess Dean was a pretty horrible patient, huh?"

"He was, but I'm actually talking about Cas. One session. I've managed to get him into one session. And then I could barely get him to talk about himself, it was all Dean, Dean, Dean, with a heavy side of A.J."

"Heh. He's gone on my brother. That makes me so happy. I thought the thing with Cassie way back when might go somewhere, but Bela was wrong for him from the start. Then he won that contest. Who knew?"

"Yup. And now he's happy. When you boys found him on the beach in California, did you ever think he'd turn it around and come as far as he has?"

"Truthfully? No, I didn't. He humbled me. Dean worked so hard to get better and - oh." Sam huffed a laugh. "I get it."

"Good." Pamela smiled. "Let's give it another day or two and then we'll reevaluate. But you're going to stick to a regular therapy schedule when you get out, alright?"

"Yeah. I will."

"I know you're not quite there yet, but you are doing so much better. I'm so proud of you. Be proud of yourself."

"I'll try. I promise."

Pam grinned brilliantly. "Awesome!"

* * *

"Ok, on the count of three - one, two, three!"

Dean hauled Sam's left side up, bearing most of the weight of his brother's body, while Amelia helped him straighten his right leg. Together, they helped Sam grab hold of the parallel bars in the physical therapy room.

"Let's try and put a little weight on your left, ok?" Amelia told Sam. "Just a little. Shift your body weight closer to Dean."

"C'mon, bitch, I'll catch you."

Sam looked over at him, face red from the exertion already. He cracked a grin and muttered "jerk". Turning his face forward, he subtly shifted his weight onto his left leg, standing on his prosthesis for the very first time.

"Dude, check you out. Got it in one."

"Yeah," Sam huffed, arms shaking. "Not sure I can hold it."

"Sure you can," Amelia smiled. "You're going to rest all your weight back on your right leg and swing your left leg forward."

"No, no, I can't do that."

"Sure you can," Dean told him reassuringly. "I'm right here and I won't let you fall. I promise. Trust me?"

Sam turned his head, and their eyes met. Dean could see that same little boy he'd raised, looking at him for reassurance. Apparently, he found it, his expression lightening, and he gave Dean a determined nod. Shifting his weight back to his right leg, Sam lifted his left and moved forward.

"Hah! I did it! I did it!" he crowed triumphantly.

"Damn right you did! C'mon, Sammy, one more. You got this."

Sam took another step. Then another, Dean and Amelia cheering him on the whole way. He took five steps, turned with Dean and Amelia's help, and walked another five, holding tight to the bars the whole way. His hair, face, and tee were soaked with sweat when Dean helped him back into his wheelchair, but his face was joyful. "I did it. I friggin' did it."

"Of course you did, dude."

"We knew you could. And this is just the beginning. We'll keep working on it, and another month or so, you probably won't need the chair much at all. You're doing so good." Amelia handed Sam a towel. "I'm so proud of you."

…

Sam was still talking a mile a minute about his progress when Dean helped him into the Impala. He slid into the driver's seat after putting Sam's belongings and wheelchair in the trunk. "Time to head home. You excited?"

"Can't wait to see the girls, but I'm nervous."

"Don't be. You'll be fine. You're getting better every day and now you're even starting to get your mobility back. Hell, give it a couple of weeks and I'll be driving your ass to the shop and making you earn your keep." Dean fired up the car and pulled out of the hospital's lot. Sam was quiet beside him. "Hey," Dean glanced over, "you ok?"

"Yeah. I'm just - I didn't think I'd still have a job with you."

"Dude, why wouldn't you? You still have 90% of your brain cells. You can still do contracts and legal bullshit. Of course you have a job."

"Ok," Sam said meekly.

Looking over at his brother, Dean was dismayed to see Sam doing that thing he did - pulled in shoulders, hands tucked into his lap, trying to make himself look smaller than he really was. Spotting a local park just ahead, Dean flicked on his turn signal and pulled into the lot.

"Uh, what're you doing?"

"Obviously, we gotta talk. Why are you sitting over there looking like a beaten dog? I don't get it. Things are going good. You're on your way home -"

"I'm on my way to your home. Where I'm in the way, an inconvenience."

"What? That's not true!"

"Dean, I've been fucking up your life for the last several months. Don't lie. The shit you've had to deal with - with Jess's parents and my own self-absorbed bullshit - please. Your home is not my home; at least it shouldn't be."

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. You are my brother." Dean tried to meet Sam's eyes, but he wouldn't look up. "You're part of my world, too. You have every right to be in my home and I'm happy to help you. Tell me you wouldn't do the same for me?"

"I would, but -"

"No, no buts. You belong with me. You need help and you need someone to look after your daughters, who better than me?"

"Ellen and Bobby invited us to stay with them."

"Oh," Dean said softly, staring down at his hands. "They do have more room, I guess."

"Yeah."

They sat quietly, staring out at the people walking through the park. Children played happily and dogs gamboled along the path. Most people looked carefree, smiling as they enjoyed the breezy March day.

"We should get you a dog," Dean said, thinking out loud. "You'd probably qualify for a service animal. Might do you a lot of good."

"A big, goofy golden retriever. Good with kids. But a shelter dog. One who needs a second chance."

"Yeah."

They fell quiet again, and watched as the park goers dispersed as rain began to fall, big drops smacking the Impala's windshield.

"I don't want to move to Ellen's."

"Good. I don't want you to, either. We're making it work. There's room for all of us."

"It's not that, Dean. I want my own home again. Want my girls to have their own rooms, their own backyard -"

"Your house has a contract on it."

"It does? It sold?"

"Not sold, but a contract. We're supposed to close this week. And I still - I've been holding on to the house next to Benny's. After we sold the Hawaii place, Cas and I decided to just keep paying the mortgage on that house, since it was like a third of the Hale'iwa place."

"Oh, Dean. I'm so sorry. I know you loved that house."

"You know what? We can rent a small house when we want to go out there, and there's other places Cas and I want to see, too. So no worries, ok?" He leaned over and patted Sam's shoulder. "The point is, if you want your own place, it's doable. Ok?"

"But you shouldn't keep doing this. I'm not your responsibility anymore. You've got to learn that you don't have to provide for everyone in your life."

"I do know that. That's why you're going to pay back every penny of what Cas and I put into that house across the street. But it's just not an urgent thing. You'll get there, ok? It's not important."

"Ok."

Dean chuckled. "Good. 'Cause Benny and Adam already moved all your shit in, except for the stuff we've been using at my place. Guess we'll have to look into making it accessible now, huh?"

"I don't need a fucking wheelchair," Sam growled. "Two months at the most and my ass is going to be using the running leg. I'll bet you $500 I can do it."

"I'm not taking that bet!"

"Why not?" Sam challenged.

"Because I'll lose $500!"

Sam laughed, long and hearty, and it made Dean's heart skip a beat. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard such a happy sound leave his brother's lips.

"Let's go home, Sammy."

"Yeah. I'm ready to see my girls."

* * *

Cas brought in several large containers of food from Pearly Gates. With Sam coming home, he thought he'd give himself and Dean a break from cooking for once.

"Hey!"

"Hello, love." Dean tossed him a happy grin as he came down the stairs with an empty laundry basket. He opened the basement door and tossed it down, meeting Cas in the kitchen. "It's quiet in here. Is Sam home?"

"Come look," Dean smiled, taking Cas's hand and leading him to the window.

Sam sat on a chaise in the backyard, Felicity curled in his lap and Mari running around. Every now and then, she'd stop, come back to talk to Sam, then run off again. Sam looked peaceful in a way Cas hadn't seen in quite some time.

"He looks good."

"He took ten steps today on the new leg. It hurt, and it was hard, but he did it. Then that ass tried to bet me $500 he'd be on the running leg in less than two months."

"I hope you didn't take it. You'll lose!"

"That's what I said! Also, he wants the house, wants the job I offered - Pam says not to get excited, because he still might have setbacks, but we're finally moving in the right direction."

"Thank god," Cas murmured, nosing at Dean's neck. He kissed him just below the ear, and Dean hummed in pleasure. "I brought dinner home. Since it's so unseasonably warm and it stopped raining, why don't you grab an old towel and dry off the porch chairs? I'll bring everything out and we'll eat on the porch."

"Ok."

"Where's A.J. by the way?"

"Asleep in his room," Dean called on his way out.

Smiling, Cas walked across the hall and pushed the door open. A.J. was sprawled on his tummy. Since he'd starting rolling, he refused to sleep on his back anymore, always rolling to his belly the first chance he got. Cas thought it was adorable, how he laid there with his little fists balled up over his head. He slept just like Dean did.

A.J.'s hair was growing in thick now, and Cas wondered if they wouldn't see freckles before too long. Nearly five months old, cooing and smiling, Cas was sure his tiny son was perfect.

"He's perfect, isn't he?" Dean whispered, sliding his arms around Cas's waist.

"I was just thinking that."

"So the blue eyes are a definite, and his hair seems to be coming in blonde. Looks like he's a good mix of both of us, eh Papa?"

"I'm still holding out for freckles."

"Of course you are," Dean chuckled, kissing Cas's neck. "C'mon, let him sleep. I'm hungry."

Cas nodded, and let Dean pull him from the room.

* * *

"Been way too long since we've had time for this."

Kissing his way along Dean's neck, Cas smiled. "Indeed. Let's hope someone sleeps through the night again."

"Yeah."

Cas dragged a washcloth along Dean's arm, lazily drawing suds across his skin. He kissed the bolt of Dean's jaw, dropping the cloth and letting his hands wander. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked letting his fingers glide across Dean's hip.

"I sure hope so," Dean said breathily, letting his head drop back to Cas's shoulder.

Cas hummed tunelessly, sliding his hands across Dean's hips to meet at the v where his legs joined the rest of his body. He smiled at the soft, slightly pudgy skin of Dean's belly, a pleasant reminder that his husband was healthy and well.

"Stop playing with my chub," Dean grumbled.

"I love your chub," Cas whispered in Dean's ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth. Smiling at the pleased sound Dean made, Cas slipped a hand around Dean's half-hard length, weighing it in his hand before sliding a few strokes up and down his shaft.

"We doing this in the tub, then?" Dean asked, voice content and slightly sleepy.

"Would you prefer bed?"

"I would. 'Cause then we can fall asleep after, and as much as I am one hundred percent on board with sexy fun times, I am also an old man who happens to be a new parent who really treasures the small amount of sleep I get."

"Fair enough," Cas grinned, reaching forward and opening the drain. He stood, reaching for one of their fluffy bath sheets and wrapped Dean in it. "Let me get you all dried off,  _old man_. Don't want you to pull something."

"Yeah, spoil me," Dean grinned, leaning forward for a kiss.

"Someone should. You spoil everyone else, including me."

Dean flushed. "You guys make me out to be some kind of hero or something."

Cas gently pushed Dean in the direction of their bedroom. "You are a hero. To me, to Sam, to those girls - you absolutely are. Don't ever think that you aren't. You're strong," he kissed Dean on the mouth, "you're loving," he pulled Dean's towel away and tossed it to the floor, "you're sweet, humble, kind, generous," Cas punctuated each word with kiss, before shoving Dean onto the bed. "And the best part?" he smiled, pulling off his own towel. "You're all mine."

They were laying sideways on the bed, and Dean's knees were bent and dangling off the edge, but Cas didn't care. He was overwhelmed by the need to be inside his husband, and since he fully planned to wrap Dean's legs around his waist anyway, he didn't need him all the way on the bed.

"Good thing we moved A.J. back downstairs, huh?"

Cas slid a hand into Dean's wet hair, tilting his head back to expose his neck. "We are not talking about children right now," he growled, leaning in to gently nip Dean's pulse point.

"Mmm, Cas." Dean got the picture pretty quick, and pulled his legs off the floor, wrapping them around Cas. "Get in bed, man."

"Maybe I'm going to do it this way. My feet on the floor with your feet up around your ears. Ever think about that?" Cas asked, nipping and biting his way down Dean's neck. "Maybe I'm going to bend you in half and take you hard and fast."

"Fuck, Cas -" Dean's back arched off the bed as Cas sucked on his nipple, rolling the nub between his teeth. He reached blindly behind him, relying on touch to find the bottle of lube and snicking the cap open easily. Putting both hands on Dean's ass, he shoved him hard across the bed, making room for himself to climb up.

"What happened to folding me in hal- fuck!" Dean stopped talking as Cas sucked him down, taking Dean from semi-hard to fully erect in less than a second, it seemed, Dean moaning as his hands tangled in Cas's hair. "Fuck, Cas, love when you get all bossy and controlling like this. I fucking love it. Yeah, yeah," Dean gasped.

Cas didn't answer, just sucked Dean into the back of his throat, reveling in how Dean's hand tightened in his hair and how he seemed to lose the ability use words. He worked Dean up, sucking and licking, sliding slick fingers inside of him, and by the time he actually slid his cock inside of Dean, Dean was gone, flush from cheeks to belly, clinging to Cas with weak fingers. The only sounds he seemed able to make were breathy little gasps, soft moans, and whispered Cas's.

"God, you're so beautiful," Cas murmured, overwhelmed. He put his arms behind Dean's head, pulling him as close as could, even though it never seemed close enough. Every inch of him was pressed against Cas's skin, so close he could feel the pounding of Dean's heart.

"Please," Dean breathed, "please, please."

"I've got you," Cas assured him, pulling back and sliding back in, rhythm building as he kissed every available inch of perfect skin. "Mine," he growled in Dean's ear, not even surprised when warmth flooded the scant space between them, Dean coming untouched with a low groan.

He came not long after, but made no move to pull out. They lay pressed together still, sweaty skin sticking uncomfortably, but there was so much adoration in Dean's eyes as he gazed up at Cas, he was loath to pull away and end the moment.

"I love you," Dean whispered, blinking slow and lazily. "I love you, I love you." His eyes closed and stayed closed, and Cas kissed along his neck, breathing the words into Dean's skin as his husband dropped off into sleep.

"I love you. I love you. I love you."

  
  



	20. Epilogue - We've Got Time Left to Be Lazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done. It's finally done. Thank you to everyone who came along for this long, long ride. Almost a year and a half later, it's done.

 

 _Slow down, we've got time left to be lazy_  
_All the kids have bloomed from babies into flowers in our eyes_  
_We've got fifty good years left to spend out in the garden_  
_I don't care to beg your pardon, we should live until we die_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dean woke early and leaned over to kiss Cas's forehead, smiling at the scrunched face he made. He pulled himself from their bed, pleased at the bright fall day that greeted him. After a quick shower, and one more kiss, he headed downstairs, intent on getting breakfast going.

It was a big day, after all.

Opening the front door, he reached down for the paper, smiling when his brother whizzed past, in gym shorts and a sheen of sweat.

"Nerd," he muttered, watching Sam go by. "That is how you'd start today."

Wandering back out to the kitchen, he got the coffee maker going and started dough for cinnamon rolls. He was just sliding them into the oven when Cas wrapped his arms around him, kissing his neck.

"Morning, beautiful."

"Morning, yourself."

A thud from somewhere nearby, and then little feet dashing across the wood floor. The bathroom door slammed.

"A.J.'s up," Cas said drily.

"He always makes an entrance."

"Dada, up!" A little voice demanded.

Dean reached down and scooped up two year old Jessie. "Good morning, baby girl."

"Dada make p'cakes?"

"Nope. Daddy is making cinnamon buns. Can you smell them?" Cas leaned in to kiss her tiny freckled nose before turning to do the same to Dean's.

"Cinna! Yum yum!"

"I'm hungry!" A.J. yelled, yanking on Dean's leg. "Breakfast!"

"You go wash your hands and flush first, pal."

"Son of a bitch," the five year old muttered, turning back towards the bathroom.

Dean flushed under the intensity of Cas's glare. "Oops," he grinned.

"I should wash your mouth out with soap,  _pal_ ," he growled.

"Ooh, that sounds promising."

"Gutter brain," Cas shot back, reaching to take Jessie from his arms.

"You love it."

Cas tossed a smile back over his shoulder, blue eyes twinkling merrily.

"Yeah," Dean murmured. "Me, too."

* * *

Missouri smiled at the couple standing before her. "And with the power vested in me by the state of Kansas, and in the presence of your friends and family, it is my great pleasure to announce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Sam grinned, reaching down to cup Pamela's chin in his hand. She smiled back.

"Get 'em, cowboy," she growled, just before Sam kissed her.

"And now, for the first time anywhere, I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Winchester!"

The crowd gathered in Sam and Pamela's backyard applauded madly, and Pamela slipped her small hand into Sam's big one. "Just you and me, kid," she grinned.

"Hell yeah!" Sam said back, deciding he needed one more kiss.

No one had ever expected the day would come when Pamela would have to stop seeing Sam as a patient. They'd realized about a year and half into his treatment that they were falling in love, and making the choice to see another therapist was easy for Sam.

Pamela turned his world upside down in the best ways possible, and Sam was grateful for every minute she was in his life. It didn't hurt that the girls adored her, and the feeling was utterly mutual.

"I didn't think I'd ever get over Jess," Sam had told Dean one Saturday afternoon. "And I haven't - not really - but I think I've gotten used to her being gone. I dunno. I sure didn't expect to fall in love again."

Dean had nodded knowingly, watching as Pam and Cas chased the kids across the lawn. "I know what you mean, though. I never thought I'd be this happy."

They clinked their beer bottles together. "Me neither. I never thought I'd be this content again."

Pamela had turned right at that moment, beaming at Sam, her smile bright and beautiful.

He'd known right then and there he was going to ask her to marry him before the month was out.

* * *

"Your daughter stinks." Jo deposited a fluffy pink bundle in his arms before leaning back and supporting her lower back with her hands.

"You look like you swallowed a beach ball," Dean told her gleefully.

"Yeah? Well at least I get to keep these two!"

"Alright, love, calm down, remember what Dr. Mills said about your blood pressure?" Charlie wrapped an arm around her wife's waist, leading her away from Dean.

"Dada, I pooed," Jessie told him gleefully, reaching up to squish his cheeks between her tiny hands.

"Ok, sweet love, let's go deal with your tushy."

In the room that had once been his office so many years before, he changed his sweet little girl, smiling as her green eyes tracked the butterflies he and Cas had strung from the ceiling. A.J. had Ben's old room, and Cas and Dean had remodeled the basement into a room for Ben, though he rarely used it.

"Weird to think that less than ten years ago, this house was empty, just me, when it's so full now. With you, your brothers, Papa - this little house is bursting, isn't it?" He refastened her onesie and scooped her back into his arms, running his fingers through her dark hair.

She blew a raspberry at him, and he laughed.

"Dean?"

"In here, babe."

"We're running low on bruschetta, and I was sure I'd made more -" Cas rounded the corner into Jessie's bedroom. "Whew. Nevermind. You were busy."

"Yes, I was," Dean grinned, lifting the nasty diaper off the changing table. "We do have more bruschetta, downstairs in the second fridge."

"Oh, perfect," Cas said, kissing Dean before heading off to get it.

Sam's wedding reception was in full swing in Dean's backyard, catered by the master team of Winchester & Winchester.

That had been Cas's terms, after all. He'd come back to Food Network, but he was bringing Dean with him. Each episode of  _Family Bites_  included Dean and often one of their children, if not both. Sometimes other family members stopped by as well.

They'd just finished their fourth season, and they were as successful as ever. Winchester and Sons moved along at a good clip, and Dean didn't miss  _Kansas Kustoms_ at all.  _Family Bites_ was so much more fun, and he loved the name - he'd picked it out, after all.

"Cas was saying something about bruschetta," Ellen told him as he stepped back onto the porch.

"Yeah, we got it."

"Good. Give me my grandbaby." She took Jessie from his arms and disappeared back into the crowd.

Over by the playground, Felicity, Mari, and A.J. were conspiring, happy smiles on their faces. Johnny, Adam and Madison's son, was building roads in the sandbox. Benny and Andrea were talking with Missouri, their beautiful teenaged girls sitting nearby, both of them staring intently at their iPhones. Rufus sat next to Missouri, and if they thought they were fooling anyone by hiding joined hands under the table, they had another think coming.

Ben sat with Ellen, tickling his little sister's tiny feet while Lisa and Vic watched proudly. Bobby, Garth, and Ash were discussing shop business, occasionally yelling things at Benny from across the yard, while Madison cheerfully told them how wrong they were about everything. Adam held Madison on his lap, happily stroking his hands across her growing belly.

Charlie and Jo were curled together on the same chaise, Jo leaning back into her wife's arms and blinking lazily. Dean thought she might fall asleep if she sat there much longer.

Off to the side, and in their own little world, Sam and Pamela were completely intertwined, staring at each other adoringly while they held hands and shared food from the same plate.

Dean smiled.

He was so happy, so content, and for once, he wasn't waiting for the other shoe to drop. Everything was as it should be.

"I love you," Cas said, stopping to kiss him.

Everything was perfect.

"Love you, too."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Gambler](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rT-5NY83OYI/html/)
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> Thank you.


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